Tell me this. Speak plainly to me. Is it because of me that your weakness and unfaith have come upon you? Is it because of me?
Michaelis.
Looking at her steadily.
Yes.—
He comes nearer.
Before creation, beyond time, God not yet risen from His sleep, you stand and call to me, and I listen in a dream that I dreamed before Eden.
Rhoda.
Shrinking from him.
You must not say such things to me.—You must not think of me so.—You must not!
He follows her, his passion mounting.