Now tell me--tell me, son of Varro," she whispered, moving
nearer; "tell me at once."
"I love you, sweet girl, above gods and men. You are more to me than
crowns of laurel and gold, more than all that is in the earth and
heavens. My heart burns when I look at you."
He hesitated, pressing her hand upon his lips.
"Is that all?" said she, with a pretty sadness, looking down at the
golden braces on her fan. "Now, say it again, all, slowly."
She might as well have told a bird how he should sing.
He went on all unconscious of her command, his words lighted by the
fire in his heart. They were as waters rippling in the sun-glow.
"Without you there is no light in the heavens, no beauty in the earth,
no hope or glory in the future, no joy in my heart. My sword threatens
me, dear love, when I think of losing you."
She turned, quickly, with almost a look of surprise.
"It is beautiful," said she, with a sigh; "but is there no more?
Think, dear, noble knight; do think of more!"
She was near forgetting her plan. He took her in his arms and kissed
her.
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