THE SECOND VOICE. But for Diana's sake! THE FIRST VOICE. To forego the joys of Diana's companionship for two, empty, desolate years. THE SECOND VOICE. But for Diana's own future good! THE FIRST VOICE. Why should Love demand such thing of any lover? THE SECOND VOICE. Because he boasted his love beyond all other. Was it but an idle boast? THE FIRST VOICE. No lover would ever do such thing! THE SECOND VOICE. Except he be indeed greatly true and most unselfish. THE FIRST VOICE. Diana would never leave me. THE SECOND VOICE. Never, even though it were the passion of her life! For truly a woman's love is ever more unselfish than a man's. THE FIRST VOICE. She loves me too much to endure such parting. THE SECOND VOICE. She loves you so much she would endure even this to become your comrade as well as wife, to fit herself that she may take her place beside you in your world, serene and assured, to become the woman you can revere for her intellect and refinement. THE FIRST VOICE. All this I can teach her, all this she shall acquire after marriage. THE SECOND VOICE. Never! She will devote herself to you rather than to herself. THE FIRST VOICE. Howbeit, I love her well enough as she is-- THE SECOND VOICE. O selfish lover! And what of the future? You cannot live out your life in her world of the Silent Places, and in your world your gipsy maid will find small welcome or none. THE FIRST VOICE. Then her world shall be mine also-- THE SECOND VOICE. O foolish lover! Think you she shall not grieve that by her love you should lose caste-- THE FIRST VOICE. She need never know-- THE SECOND VOICE. The eyes of a loving woman are marvellous quick to see. THE FIRST VOICE. Then Love shall comfort her. THE SECOND VOICE. Yet still must be her dark hours. Is two years so long a time? THE FIRST VOICE. Too long! In two years she may find a thousand new interests to come between us. In two years she may meet with dashing gallants richer, higher placed, more versed in knowledge of women and far more intellectual than myself, who am but what I am. So, having won her to my love, what folly to let her go--to be wooed perchance by others. THE SECOND VOICE. O most despicable lover! Will you be content to win a maid through and because of her ignorance of all other wooers better placed than your poor self? THE FIRST VOICE. Yes. THE SECOND VOICE. Then is yours a pitiful love, base and most unworthy. THE FIRST VOICE. No matter--she shall not go! THE SECOND VOICE. In such a love can be no true happiness. THE FIRST VOICE. However, she shall not leave me! THE SECOND VOICE. How if at some future day, her eyes be opened to see your love for the petty, selfish thing it is? THE FIRST VOICE. She will be my wife! THE SECOND VOICE. So God pity her. THE FIRST VOICE. Come what will, she shall not leave me! I cannot, will not part with her!