_Lucifer._ It is a very grave and solemn business! We must not be precipitate. Does she Without compulsion, of her own free will, Consent to this? _Prince Henry._ Against all opposition, Against all prayers, entreaties, protestations. She will not be persuaded. _Lucifer._ That is strange! Have you thought well of it? _Elsie._ I come not here To argue, but to die. Your business is not to question, but to kill me. I am ready. I am impatient to be gone from here Ere any thoughts of earth disturb again The spirit of tranquillity within me. _Prince Henry._ Would I had not come here Would I were dead, And thou wert in thy cottage in the forest, And hadst not known me! Why have I done this? Let me go back and die. _Elsie._ It cannot be; Not if these cold, flat stones on which we tread Were coulters heated white, and yonder gateway Flamed like a furnace with a sevenfold heat. I must fulfil my purpose. _Prince Henry._ I forbid it! Not one step farther. For I only meant To put thus far thy courage to the proof. It is enough. I, too, have courage to die, For thou hast taught me! _Elsie._ O my Prince! remember Your promises. Let me fulfill my errand. You do not look on life and death as I do. There are two angels, that attend unseen Each one of us, and in great books record Our good and evil deeds. He who writes down The good ones, after every action closes His volume, and ascends with it to God. The other keeps his dreadful day-book open Till sunset, that we may repent; which doing, The record of the action fades away, And leaves a line of white across the page. Now if my act be good, as I believe it, It cannot be recalled. It is already Sealed up in heaven, as a good deed accomplished. The rest is yours. Why wait you? I am ready. (_To her attendants._) Weep not, my friends! rather rejoice with me. I shall not feel the pain, but shall be gone, And you will have another friend in heaven. Then start not at the creaking of the door Through which I pass. I see what lies beyond it. (_To_ PRINCE HENRY.) And you, O Prince! bear back my benison Unto my father's house, and all within it. This morning in the church I prayed for them, After confession, after absolution, When my whole soul was white, I prayed for them. God will take care of them, they need me not. And in your life let my remembrance linger, As something not to trouble and disturb it, But to complete it, adding life to life. And if at times beside the evening fire You see my face among the other faces, Let it not be regarded as a ghost That haunts your house, but as a guest that loves you. Nay, even as one of your own family, Without whose presence there were something wanting. I have no more to say. Let us go in. _Prince Henry._ Friar Angelo! I charge you on your life, Believe not what she says, for she is mad, And comes here not to die, but to be healed. _Elsie._ Alas! Prince Henry! _Lucifer._ Come with me; this way.