(_That I should be
So avaricious of his gleaming price!_)
_Katrina_.
And the instant force it has upon us, when
We think to use love as a privilege!
We are like bees that, having fed all day
On mountain-heather, go to a tumbling stream
To please their little honey-heated thirsts;
And soon as they have toucht the singing relief,
The swiftness of the water seizes them.
_Sylvan_.
And onward, sprawling and spinning, they are carried
Down to a drowning pool.
_Katrina_.
O Sylvan, drowning?
(_Deeper than drowning! Why should it not be
Our hearts need wish only what they delight in_?)
_Sylvan_.
Well, altogether gript by the being of love.
(_Yes, now the bargain's done; and I may wear,
Like a cheated savage, scarlet dyes and strings
Of beaded glass, all the pleasure of love_!)
_Katrina_.
It is a wonderful tyranny, that life
Has no choice but to be delighted love!
(_I know what I must do: I am to abase
My heart utterly, and have nothing in me
That dare take pleasure beyond serving love.
Thus only shall I bear it; and perhaps--
Might I even of my abasement make
A passion, fearfully enjoying it_?)
_Sylvan_.
You are full of thoughts, sweetheart?
_Katrina_.
And so are you:
A long while since you kist me! (_What have I said?
O fool so to remind him! I shall scarce
Help crying out or shuddering this time!--
Ah no; I am again a fool! Not thus
I am to do, but in my heart to break
All the reluctance; it must have on me
No pleasure; else I am endlessly tortured_.
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