No More Learning

You remember where we held
That conversation;--nay, we see the spot
Even from this cypress;--two long years are past
Since, on an April midnight, underneath _5
The moonlight ruins of Mount Palatine,
I did confess to you my secret mind.

ORSINO:
You said you loved me then.

BEATRICE:
You are a Priest.
Speak to me not of love.

ORSINO:
I may obtain
The dispensation of the Pope to marry. _10
Because I am a Priest do you believe
Your image, as the hunter some struck deer,
Follows me not whether I wake or sleep?

BEATRICE:
As I have said, speak to me not of love;
Had you a dispensation I have not; _15
Nor will I leave this home of misery
Whilst my poor Bernard, and that gentle lady
To whom I owe life, and these virtuous thoughts,
Must suffer what I still have strength to share.
Alas, Orsino! All the love that once _20
I felt for you, is turned to bitter pain.
Ours was a youthful contract, which you first
Broke, by assuming vows no Pope will loose.
And thus I love you still, but holily,
Even as a sister or a spirit might; _25
And so I swear a cold fidelity.
And it is well perhaps we shall not marry.
You have a sly, equivocating vein
That suits me not. --Ah, wretched that I am!
Where shall I turn?
Even now you look on me _30
As you were not my friend, and as if you
Discovered that I thought so, with false smiles
Making my true suspicion seem your wrong.
Ah, no! forgive me; sorrow makes me seem
Sterner than else my nature might have been; _35
I have a weight of melancholy thoughts,
And they forebode,--but what can they forebode
Worse than I now endure?

NOTE:
_24 And thus editions 1821, 1839; And yet edition 1819.

ORSINO:
All will be well.
Is the petition yet prepared? You know
My zeal for all you wish, sweet Beatrice; _40
Doubt not but I will use my utmost skill
So that the Pope attend to your complaint.

BEATRICE:
Your zeal for all I wish;--Ah me, you are cold!
Your utmost skill. . . speak but one word. . .
[ASIDE. ]
Alas!