triking two. No, go not yet."

"I must, Henry, I must; the hours are past in which I can be happy."

"Oh, you cold, proud soul! Does the head already long again for the
crown; and can you wait no longer for the purple to again cover your
shoulders? Come, let me kiss your shoulder; and think now, dear, that my
crimson lips are also a purple robe."

"And a purple robe for which I would gladly give my crown and my life!"
cried she, with the utmost enthusiasm, as she folded him in her arms.

"Do you love me, then? Do you really love me?"

"Yes, I love you!"

"Can you swear to me that you love no one except me?"

"I can swear it, as true as there is a God above us, who hears my oath."

"Bless you for it, you dear, you only one--oh, how shall I call
you?--you whose name I may not utter! Oh, do you know that it is cruel
never to name the name of the loved one? Withdraw that prohibition;
grudge me not the painfully sweet pleasure of being able at least to
call you by your name!"

"No," said she, with a shudder; "for know you not that the sleep-walkers
awake out of their dreams when they are called by name? I am a
somnambulist, who, with smiling courage, moves along a dizzy height;
call me by name, and I shall awake, and, shuddering, plunge into the
abyss beneath. Ah, Henry, I hate my name, for it is pronounced by other
lips than yours. For you I will not be named as other men call me.
Baptize me, my Henry; give me another name--a name which is our secret,
and which no one knows besides us."

"I name you Geraldine; and as Geraldine I will praise and laud you
before all the world. I will, in spite of all these spies and listeners,
repeat again and again that I love you, and no one, not the king
himself, shall be able to forbid me."

"Hush!" said she, with a shudder, "speak not of him! Oh, I conjure you,
my Henry, be cautious; think that you have sworn to me ever to think of
the danger that threatens us, and will, without doubt, dash us in pieces
if you, by only a sound, a look, or a smile, betray the sweet secret
that unites us two. Are you still aware what you have sworn to me?"

"I am aware of it! But it is an unnatural Draconian law. What! even when
I am alone with you, shall I never be allowed to address you otherwise
than with that reverence and restrain which is due the queen? Even when
no one can hear us, may I, by no syllable, by none, not the slightest
intimation, remind you of our love?"

"No, no, do it n