RACHEL A great glory has descended upon this day.
RAVENSBANE Be mine.
RACHEL Could I but be sure that this glory is love—Oh, then! [Turns toward Ravensbane.]
RICHARD [Stepping between them.] It is not love; it is witchcraft.
RACHEL Who are you?—Richard?
RICHARD You have indeed forgotten me? Would to God, Rachel, I could forget you.
RAVENSBANE Sir, permit me—
RICHARD Silence! [To Rachel.] Against my will, I am a convert to your own mysticism; for nothing less than damnable illusion could so instantly wean your heart from me to—this. I do not pretend to understand it; but that it is witchcraft I am convinced; and I will save you from it.
RACHEL Go; please go.
RAVENSBANE Permit me, sir; you have not replied yet to flails!