"Was it well?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Take off thy wedding shirt."
"You think I should?"
"Yes, if thou wilt not be cold."
"_Que va_, cold.
I am on fire."
"I, too.
But afterwards thou wilt not be cold?"
"No.
Afterwards we will be as one animal of the forest and be so close that neither one can tell that one of us is one and not the other.
Can you not feel my heart be your heart?"
"Yes.
There is no difference."
"Now, feel.
I am thee and thou art me and all of one is the other.
And I love thee, oh, I love thee so.
Are you not truly one?
Canst thou not feel it?"
"Yes," he said.
"It is true."
"And feel now.
Thou hast no heart but mine."
"Nor any other legs, nor feet, nor of the body."
"But we are different," she said.
"I would have us exactly the same."
"You do not mean that."
"Yes I do.
I do.
That is a thing I had to tell thee."
"You do not mean that."
"Perhaps I do not," she said speaking softly with her lips against his shoulder.
"But I wished to say it.
Since we are different I am glad that thou art Roberto and I Maria.
But if thou should ever wish to change I would be glad to change.
I would be thee because I love thee so."
"I do not wish to change.
It is better to be one and each one to be the one he is."
"But we will be one now and there will never be a separate one."
Then she said, "I will be thee when thou are not there.
Oh, I love thee so and I must care well for thee."
"Maria."
"Yes."
"Maria."
"Yes."
"Maria."
"Oh, yes.
Please."
"Art thou not cold?"
"Oh, no.