O Tête-d'or! you have baptised me with your blood. Now like a babe I lie upon your breast and pour forth on your bosom all myself, For every tie is dissolved and I am like a severed branch. _(TÊTE-D'OR takes CÉBÈS in his arms._ TÊTE-D'OR: Thus in my turn I take you in my arms. CÉBÈS: They say That if in the midst of his path through a dreary solitude, Of a sudden the wanderer halts at the summons of his heart, It is love, that locks the man and woman in agonised embrace. They do not recognise themselves and the lover feels a pang like the stab of a knife beneath his ribs, And invents those phrases that begin with O, Imitating the piercing cries of sea-birds, for their silence is like the peace of the waters. TÊTE-D'OR: What have you to say to me? CÉBÈS: O Tête-d'or! I am not a woman and neither am I a man, For I am not of age, and I am already as if I were no more. TÊTE-D'OR: Who are you then? CÉBÈS: O Tête-d'or, all pain is past! The snare is broken and I am free! I am the plant that has been uprooted from the earth! There is a joy that comes with man's last hour. That joy am I and the secret that can no longer be told. O Tête-d'or, I give myself to you and deliver myself into your hands! So hold me while I am with you. TÊTE-D'OR: O Cébès, whom thus I have taken in my arms, I will question you in my turn. Hand yearns to hand And mouth to mouth, yet never do they meet, for an invisible barrier lies between. That is the pang of love through which it is like the water that boils and disappears. CÉBÈS: Then love me more for I scarcely can be called a living man. And I am like a bird that one seizes on the wing. TÊTE-D'OR: O brother, I have jealously taken from you the woman you loved. And you would have been happy with her. But it was destined that your love should be given to none but me. Brother! Child! O all the tenderness of my heart, I have taken you between my hands! O burden! O sacrifice that I bear in my arms like a sheep whose feet are bound together! Shall I call you my child or my brother? For I am more mindful of you Than a father would have been of that pallid little face. And my heart is attached to yours by a stronger and sweeter tie Than that which binds a brother to his little brother in the nursery when he plays with him in the evening, and lulls him to sleep with stories and helps in taking off his shoes. O my friend that I have found in the gloom, are you going to abandon me and leave me all alone? CÉBÈS: O Tête-d'or, as you gave yourself to me Even so I give myself to you, And as you did not trust your secret to me, Neither shall I entrust to you mine. I am strangely light and like a thing that can no longer be held. _(He kisses him on the cheek._ Good-bye! And now put me back on my bed. _(Meanwhile the first faint signs of dawn appear._ TÊTE-D'OR: The day! CÉBÈS: The chilly violet of dawn Glances across the distant plains, tinting each track and rut with its glamor!