Cath. Remove this curse, those terrible monks have placed
Upon his priesthood.
Hild. O Woman, I cannot, I cannot.
Cath. By all our former love! They cannot part!
He holds her as the apple of his eye,
She sees in him the man that God hath given.
Remove this awful curse.
Hild. Woman, thou speakest to a columned stone,
I am a marble. If I have a heart,
Thou’lt hear it beating, rock within this rock,