Christine, because you flush and tremble so.
Yet look you not on me with eyes that burn;
I would not stay you when you go to greet
The rider of the dawn on his return.
Think you I leave my bed at break of day--
I, Hild the Queen--to thwart a lover's kiss?
Think you my love of you could stoop to this,
Though you would wed a fledgling, deedless Knight?
Nay, shrink you not from me, turn not away;
Because my heart has never known love's light,