That it was ever more than shadows were?

GUENDOLEN.

- Thy faith and heart were aught but shadow and fire.

LOCRINE.

But thou, meseems, hast loved--thy son and sire.

GUENDOLEN.

And not my lord: I cross and thwart him still.

LOCRINE.

Thy grief it is that wounds me--not thy will.

GUENDOLEN.

Wound? if I would, could I forsooth wound thee?

LOCRINE.

I think thou wouldst not, though thine hands were free.

GUENDOLEN.

These hands, now bound in wedlock fast to thine?