Crassus.
‘What will you then?
Aurcta.
No gift from men.
Of my own free will I give you wit,
(O man so sorely in need of it!)
And happiness; and the flame that hath dwindled
On this dull hearth shall be rekindled.
But this you must swear:
To will, and to dare,
To seck the spirit and slay the sense;
And for this hour
To give me power
To lead you in silent obedience,
‘Though I bade you fall on your sword. . . .
Crassus.
Enough!
I give my life as I gave my love.
Aucu.
1! love you have not understood.
‘You have not guessed its secret food.
‘You have not seen its single eye;
But fear and doubt and jealousy
Have risen, and now your love is trembling
Like a mountebank dissembling
When his trick's detected. Come!
To find home we must leave home.
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