The Lover:
But I have come here for you.
The Beloved:
You will not have my love again.
The Lover:
I know all. I have only come to tell you that you are a strumpet.
The Beloved:
Have pity! My heart was thinking only of you.
The Lover:
I know all. You have become Vandergold’s wench. The enemy spared me, but you—you have plunged a knife into my heart!
The Beloved:
I was hungry.
The Lover:
Oh, what have you done with our love?
The Beloved:
I was sorry for my young life.
The Lover:
And what of my life? Did you not grieve for my life?
The Beloved:
My heart is nothing but tears and nothing but love for you. But alas! you will never love me any more.
The Lover:
Oh, you are beautiful! You are as beautiful as you used to be! Don’t look at me. My heart is devoured by a bitter flame. You are a harlot, but you are beautiful. I love you, but I shall never bring it over me to forgive you. Come!
