ever be fresh and young, a thing a man can carry to his grave and raise as her best monument on his lady's tomb."
"Ah, you speak well of love," said she. "I marvel that you speak so well of love. For it is as you say; to-day in the wood it seemed to me that I had lived enough, and that even Death was but Love's servant as Life is, and both purposed solely for his better ornament."
"Men have died because they loved you, madame, and some yet live who love you," said the Bishop.
"And shall I grieve for both, my lord—or for which?"
"For neither, madame; the dead have gained peace, and they who live have escaped forgetfulness."
"But would they not be happier for forgetting?"
"I do not think so," said the Bishop, and bowing low to her again, he stood back, for he saw the King approaching with the Grand Duke; the King took him by the arm and walked on with him; but Osra's face lost the brief pensiveness that had come upon it as she talked with the Bishop, and turning to her lover, she stretched out her hands to him, saying:
