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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"

'
'And wilt thou hurt a dear friend?' said he.
'O no,' she said, 'if I might do otherwise. Yet how if I might not
choose? Shall there be no forgiveness for me then?'
He answered nothing; and still he held her hand that strove not to be
gone from his, and she cast down her eyes. Then he spake in a while:
'My friend, I have been thinking of thee and of me; and now hearken:
if thou wilt declare that thou feelest no sweetness embracing thine
heart when I say that I desire thee sorely, as now I say it; or when
I kiss thine hand, as now I kiss it; or when I pray thee to suffer me
to cast mine arms about thee and kiss thy face, as now I pray it: if
thou wilt say this, then will I take thee by the hand straightway,
and lead thee to the tents of the House of the Steer, and say
farewell to thee till the battle is over. Canst thou say this out of
the truth of thine heart?'
She said: 'What then if I cannot say this word? What then?'
But he answered nothing; and she sat still a little while, and then
arose and stood before him, looking him in the eyes, and said:
'I cannot say it.'
Then he caught her in his arms and strained her to him, and then
kissed her lips and her face again and again, and she strove not with
him.


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