(Teja _looks askance at her, shyly and distrustfully, then walks
silently to the left, sinks down before the seat on the throne, and
burying his face in the chair, weeps bitterly_.)
Balthilda.
(_Follows him shyly and kneels down beside him_.) Teja, beloved, if I
hurt thee, pardon me!
Teja (_rises and grasps her arm_).
Tell it to no one!
Balthilda.
What, Sire?
Teja.
That thou hast seen me weep! Swear it to me!
Balthilda.
It hath been told me that I am now even as a piece of thy body--and of
thy soul also!... Wherefore should I swear?
Teja.
If thou art a piece of my body, then come nearer to me, that thou mayst
not see my tears.
Balthilda.
Let me dry them for thee! See, for this cause am I here.
Teja.
Ah, 'tis well with me.... I must indeed have died of shame, for never
yet hath a Gothic man been seen to weep. Even when we buried Totilas,
we wept not.... Yet I am not ashamed.... If I but knew why suddenly it
is so well with me!... Balthilda, I will tell thee something. But thou
must not laugh me to scorn.
Balthilda.
How should I laugh at thee, beloved?
Teja.