And the joy of returning to the arms which press one and which still tremble, because they had ceased to hope!... Do you feel yours quiver and mine adore you?... They seek, they enlace one another, they fear lest they should lose one another, they no longer dare to open.... They no longer obey, they do not know that they are hurting us and are like to stifle us in their blind intoxication!... Ah, they know at last the worth of clasping a glowing body; and one would die to learn life and to know love!... JOYZELLE. Yes, one would die.... LANCÉOR. It is strange: when I was down there, in the frozen region, some one approached whom I thought I recognized.... JOYZELLE. It was he. LANCÉOR. Who? JOYZELLE. The lord of the island. LANCÉOR. He?... But he hated me.... JOYZELLE. It was he. LANCÉOR. I do not quite understand.... Did he then bring me back to love, to life?... Was he willing to restore me to her who loved me and whom he loved himself?... JOYZELLE. Yes. LANCÉOR. But why did he do it?... JOYZELLE. I besought him until he consented. LANCÉOR. Did he hesitate? JOYZELLE. Yes. LANCÉOR. Why? JOYZELLE. He said that, in saving your life, he risked his own. LANCÉOR. Nothing compelled him to it.... And then, quite simply, he gave back life to the only man who is taking away all hope of the love that would make the happiness of his life?... JOYZELLE. Yes. LANCÉOR. And without asking anything, from kindness, from pity, from generosity?... JOYZELLE. Yes. LANCÉOR. Ah, we were unjust and our worst enemies are better than we believe!... There are treasures of nobility and love even in the heart of hatred!... And this thing which he has done!... No, I really do not know that I could have done as much; and I would never have thought that that poor old man.... But is it not almost incredible, Joyzelle, and is it not heroic?... JOYZELLE. Yes. LANCÉOR. Where is he? We must go and fling ourselves at his feet, confess our error, wipe out the injustice of which we were guilty when we did not love him.... He must have his part and the best part of the happiness which he restores to us!... He must have our hearts, our joy, our smiles and our tears of love, all that one can give to those who give all!... JOYZELLE. We will go, we will go.... LANCÉOR. Joyzelle, what is it?... You scarcely answer me.... I do not know if my senses are still in the power of the night whence I am issuing, but I do not recognize your words and your movements.... You seem to be seeking, doubting, dreaming.... And I, who return to you full of love and joy, find so little of either in your eyes, which avoid me, in your hands, which forget me.... What has happened? Why recall me and restore me to life, if, during my absence, I have lost what I love?... JOYZELLE. Oh no, no, Lancéor, you have not lost me!... LANCÉOR. Your voice seeks a smile and finds but a sob.... JOYZELLE.