- Project Runeberg -  Marie Grubbe, a lady of the seventeenth century /
161

(1917) [MARC] Author: J. P. Jacobsen Translator: Hanna Astrup Larsen With: Hanna Astrup Larsen
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“Among all other times.”

“Ay, among all other times there was once a wondrously
fair time when I was exceeding dear to you. Do you bring
to mind a certain hour in the twilight, a sennight or so
after our nuptials? ’T was storming and snowing—”

“Even as now.”

“And you were sitting before the fire—”

“Even as now.”

“Ay, and I was lying at your feet, and your dear hands
were playing with my hair.”

“Yes, then you loved me.”

“Oh, even as now! And you—you bent down over
me and wept till the tears streamed down your face, and
you kissed me and looked at me with such tender
earnestness, it seemed you were saying a prayer for me in your
heart, and then all of a sudden—do you remember?—you
bit my neck.”

“Ah, merciful God, what love I did bear to you, my
lord! When I heard the clanging of your spurs on the
steps the blood pounded in my ears, and I trembled from
head to foot, and my hands were cold as ice. Then when
you came in and pressed me in your arms—”

De grace, madam!”

“Why, it’s naught but dead memories of an amour that
is long since extinguished.”

“Alas, extinguished, madam? Nay, it smoulders hotter
than ever.”

“Ah, no, ’t is covered by the cold ashes of too many
days.”

“But it shall rise again from the ashes as the bird Phenix,
more glorious and fiery than before—pray, shall it not?”

“No, love is like a tender plant; when the night frost

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