"Least of all her whom
I have worshipped long and lost at last. You accuse me unjustly of that,
and though my speech may have been somewhat rude, yet may I be forgiven
for the sake of what I have suffered. For I have suffered much."
Seeing that he was taking a more courteous tone, the Wanderer folded his
arms and left Unorna free to move, awaiting her commands, or the
further development of events. He saw in her face that her anger was not
subsiding, and he wondered less at it after hearing Kafka's insulting
speech. It was a pity, he thought, that any one should take so seriously
a maniac's words, but he was nevertheless resolved that they should not
be repeated. After all, it would be an easy matter, if the man again
overstepped the bounds of gentle speech, to take him bodily away from
Unorna's presence.
"And are you going to charm our ears with a story of your sufferings?"
Unorna asked, in a tone so cruel, that the Wanderer expected a quick
outburst of anger from Kafka, in reply. But he was disappointed in this.
The smile still lingered on the Moravian's face, when he answered, and
his expressive voice, no longer choking with passion, grew very soft and
musical.
"It is not mine to charm," he said. "It is not given to me to make
slaves of all living things with hand and eye and word. Such power
Nature does not give to all, she has given none to me. I have no spell
to win Unorna's love--and if I had, I cannot say that I would take a
love thus earned.
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