_Vav._ Where hast thou been? Throughout the long, long day My weeping sisters have been seeking thee. _Hil._ No matter now, Vavir. When thou art strong I’ll tell thee all. _Vav._ But I have news for thee, Rare news, dear sister! Dry those gentle eyes; The mighty sorrow that hath bowed thy heart Is at an end! Thy prince--thy Florian, Whom thou hast loved so tenderly--he lives! Hilda, my sister, he is seeking thee! Here, on this island, he is seeking thee! Hilda, he loves thee; for he told me so! _Hil._ I know he loves me. _Vav._ Thou hast seen him then? _Hil._ I know he loves me; ay, even more, Vavir, I know the secret of thy heart-- Poor broken heart! _Vav._ Oh! sister, pardon me. I did not seek his love--nor knew I then That he had loved thee--Sister, pardon me, For I have suffered very bitterly! _Hil._ Vavir, I have a prayer to make to thee. Vavir, thou lovest him: thy little life, More precious to us all than all the world, Lies in his hands--he is thy life to thee, And pitying Heaven hath led him to our shores To save thee for us. Take no thought for me, For I have wrestled with this love of mine And vanquished it--it lies beneath my feet! (_With assumed gaiety._) Remember, thou and I have but one heart, And so that it is happy--what care we Whose bosom it may beat in--thine or mine? (Nay, but thou shalt not speak!) I’ll keep away. His eyes shall never rest on me again; He will forget me, then, and wondrous soon! Men’s hearts are in their eyes--this love of theirs Must have its daily food or it will die: I’ll keep away--so take him to thine heart, And tell him--tell him--that I spake in jest, That I had plucked his image from my heart And cast it from me twelve long months ago. Say that my heart is cold and dead to him. Say that-say that-- (_HILDA breaks down, and sobs in VAVIR’S lap._) _Vav._ Oh, sister, weep no more! Thy prince hath chosen, and hath chosen well. Of what account is such a life as mine? Why, it is ebbing fast! Grieve not for me. And yet I fain would live a little while, To see thy face once more alight with joy, As in the old, old days! _Hil._ So shalt thou live To see my joy at thine own happiness. Vavir, he will be sorry for a while. Be kind to him--he will forget me then. Remember, all my love for him is dead. Kiss me, my child. Kiss me again. Farewell! [_HILDA pauses, looking at VAVIR for a moment, then covers her face with the veil, and exit._