No More Learning

. .

BEATRICE:
He must not arrive.

ORSINO:
Will it be dark before you reach the tower?

LUCRETIA:
The sun will scarce be set.

BEATRICE:
But I remember
Two miles on this side of the fort, the road
Crosses a deep ravine; 'tis rough and narrow, _245
And winds with short turns down the precipice;
And in its depth there is a mighty rock,
Which has, from unimaginable years,
Sustained itself with terror and with toil
Over a gulf, and with the agony _250
With which it clings seems slowly coming down;
Even as a wretched soul hour after hour,
Clings to the mass of life; yet, clinging, leans;
And leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss
In which it fears to fall: beneath this crag _255
Huge as despair, as if in weariness,
The melancholy mountain yawns. . . below,
You hear but see not an impetuous torrent
Raging among the caverns, and a bridge
Crosses the chasm; and high above there grow, _260
With intersecting trunks, from crag to crag,
Cedars, and yews, and pines; whose tangled hair
Is matted in one solid roof of shade
By the dark ivy's twine. At noonday here
'Tis twilight, and at sunset blackest night. _265

ORSINO:
Before you reach that bridge make some excuse
For spurring on your mules, or loitering
Until. . .

BEATRICE:
What sound is that?

LUCRETIA:
Hark!
No, it cannot be a servant's step
It must be Cenci, unexpectedly _270
Returned. . . Make some excuse for being here.

BEATRICE [TO ORSINO AS SHE GOES OUT]:
That step we hear approach must never pass
The bridge of which we spoke.

[EXEUNT LUCRETIA AND BEATRICE. ]

ORSINO:
What shall I do?
Cenci must find me here, and I must bear
The imperious inquisition of his looks _275
As to what brought me hither: let me mask
Mine own in some inane and vacant smile.
[ENTER GIACOMO, IN A HURRIED MANNER. ]
How! Have you ventured hither? Know you then
That Cenci is from home?

NOTE:
_278 hither edition 1821; thither edition 1819.

GIACOMO:
I sought him here;
And now must wait till he returns.

ORSINO:
Great God! _280
Weigh you the danger of this rashness?