Page:Works of Heinrich Heine 01.djvu/421



Fer. "Wherefore weep you ? Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling ; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger hulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no. Fer. My mistress, dearest, And I thus humble ever. Mira. My husband then ? Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom : here's my hand. Mira. And mine, with my heart in 't. And now farewell Till half an hour hence.