"Alas!" exclaimed the prince, "I can no longer control my passion. My
life, not my happiness merely, depends upon Iduna becoming mine. Bear
with me, my beloved, bear with me! Were you Nicaeus, you too would need
forgiveness."

"I beseech you, cease!" exclaimed Iduna, in a firmer voice; and,
withdrawing her hand, she suddenly rose. "This is neither the time nor
place for such conversation. I have not forgotten that, but a few days
back, I was a hopeless captive, and that my life and fame are even now
in danger. Great mercies have been vouchsafed to me; but still I
perhaps need the hourly interposition of heavenly aid. Other than such
worldly thoughts should fill my mind, and do. Dear Nicaeus," she
continued, in a more soothing tone, "you have nobly commenced a most
heroic enterprise: fulfil it in like spirit."

He would have replied; but at this moment the staff of the Eremite
sounded among the rocks. Baffled, and dark with rage and passion, the
Prince of Athens quitted Iduna, and strolled towards the upper part of
the glen, to conceal his anger and disappointment.

"Eat, gentle youth," said the Eremite. "Will not thy brother join us?
What may be his name?"

"Nicaeus, holy father."

"And thine?"

Iduna blushed and hesitated. At length, in her confusion, she replied,
"Iskander."