Flor. (aloud). Who would not die to be so mourned by thee?
[Hilda expresses alarm and intense surprise.
Fear nothing. I who speak am but a voice—
The murmur of the waters, shaped to words
By the all-potent alchemy of Love!
Hil. Oh, foolish maid—this is some madcap dream!
Flor. No dream indeed—or if it be, dream on!
Hil. Canst thou then hear the words I speak to thee?
Flor. Ay, that I can—and every word I hear
Adds fuel to my love!