'Agonistes, how I know not, my deep, strong love of the sea grows somewhat faint when the hour draws near to dream; and the land, the poor, hard, unsatisfying land, grows some degrees dearer. Ah! but I loathe it after, when my life again beats strong and true with the pulse of the deep. Keep you far from me then, lest I hate you--yes, even you--hate you to death.' 'Rather bid me here, to watch out the night with you.' 'I forbid it!' she said, suddenly fierce and wary. 'Take heed! Wilful, deliberate trespass against my express will shall find no pity, no pardon.' Quick she saw that, intemperate, she had startled her prey; therefore she amended, smiling sadly. 'See you how those diverse tides sway me even now. Agonistes, were you not of the land--did you share the sea--then may be--ah, ah---- 'I will try to tell you. An awful sense of desolation falls, for I feel dry earth underfoot, and thin air, and I hear the sea moaning for me, but turn where I will I cannot see nor reach it: it lies beyond a lost path, and the glories, blisses, and strengths it gives me wither and die. And then horrors of the land close round me. 'What are they? I know not; they whirl past me so that their speed conceals them; yet, as streaks, are they hideous and ghastly. And I hear fearful sounds of speech, but not one distinct, articulate word. And in my dream I know that if any one stays, stands, confronts me, to be seen fully in the eyes and heard out clear from the din, all my joy of the sea would lie dead for ever, and the very way back would vanish.' Christian had his own incomparable vision of the magic of the sea to oppose and ponder. 'Ah! you cannot comprehend, for I tell of it by way of the senses, and they are without, but this is within: in my veins, my breath, my fibres of life. It is I--me.' 'I can, ah! I can.' 'Yet the dear heart of the sea holds me fast through all; with imperious kindness it seizes my will when my love grows slackest, and draws me out of the shallows; and down, and down I drift, like weed.' 'Diadyomene, have you never defied your fear, and kept from sleep, and kept from the sea?' Her voice sank. 'If I did--my dream might--come true. 'Agonistes, what I saw in your eyes was--I doubted--my dream--coming true. 'No; I will not look again.' Christian's voice was as low and shaken as hers. 'What was there?' he said. Again and again she gathered her breath for speech, yet at last was scarce audible. 'A horror--a living human body--tortured with fire and scourge--flayed.' She lifted one glance and took the imprint of a strange tranced face, bloodless as death, void of speculation. Prone she sank to the edge of the altar rock, for such passions leapt up and grappled in desperate conflict as dissolved her strength under exquisite throes. She never raised her head, till, after long wrestle, malice--strong, full-grown malice--recovered and stood up triumphant over all. And not one word all that while had come from her lover.