Cha. You do not like that road. But it is mine.
And children walk it. I have met them there.
Her. Oh, I am frozen! See!
Cha. [With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast]
No, you are fire.
A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn
My holiest temple and betray my soul
To ashes!
Her. O, my love, what secret curbs
Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through
Your ardor.—stabs me on your breast.
May I not know it? Is not confidence
Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours
Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.
Cha. Is trust not love's prerogative
More royal sweet than any burdened share
Of secrecy?
Her. Not to the strong!
Cha. [Smiling] You strong?
By what brave test dost know it?
Her. And by what
Dost know me weak?
Cha. The proof awaits. But now,—
Emilio needs me,—
Her. Go!