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			 _ ACT III - SCENE III
[A room in the palace. Mario alone. Enter Beatrice.]
  BEA.  
  Mario! I have a message for you!--Nay,
  You need not hang your head and shun me, Mario,
  Because you loved me once a little and now
  Love somebody else much more. The going of love
  Is no less honest than the coming of it.
  It is a human thing.
  MAR. 
  Oh, Beatrice!
  What can I say to you?
  BEA.
  Nay, but indeed.
  Say nothing. All is said. I need no words
  To tell me you have been troubled in your heart,
  Thinking of me.
  MAR. 
  What can I say to you!
  BEA. 
  I tell you, my dear friend, you must forget
  This thing that makes you sad. I have forgotten,
  In seeing her so happy, that ever I wished
  For happiness myself. Indeed, indeed,
  I am much happier in her happiness
  Than if it were my own; 'tis doubly dear,
  I feel it in myself, yet all the time
  I know it to be hers, and am twice glad.
  MAR. 
  I could be on my knees to you a lifetime,
  Nor pay you half the homage is your due.
  BEA. 
  Pay me no homage, Mario,--but if it be
  I have your friendship, I shall treasure it.
  MAR. 
  That you will have always.
  BEA.
  Then you will promise me
  Never to let her know. I never told her
  How it was with us, or that I cherished you
  More than another. It was on my tongue to tell her
  The moment she returned, but she had seen you
  Already on the bridge as she went by,
  And had leaned out to look at you, it seems,
  And you were looking at her,--and the first words
  She said, after she kissed me, were, "Oh, sister,
  I have looked at last by daylight on the man
  I see in my dreams!"
  MAR. 
  [Tenderly.] 
  
  Did she say that?
  BEA.
  [Drily.] 
  
  Ay, that
  Was what she said.--By which I knew, you see,
  My dream was over,--it could not but be you.
  So that I said no word, but my quick blood
  Went suddenly quiet in my veins, and I felt
  Years older than Bianca. I drew her head
  Down to my shoulder, that she might not see my face,
  And she spoke on, and on. You must not tell her,
  Even when you both are old, and there is nothing
  To do but to remember. She would be withered
  With pity for me. She holds me very dear.
  MAR. 
  I promise it, Rose-Red. And oh, believe me,
  I said no word to you last year that is not
  As true today! I hold you still the noblest
  Of women, and the bravest. I have not changed.
  Only last year I did not know I could love
  As I love now. Her gentleness has crept so
  Into my heart, it never will be out.
  That she should turn to me and cling to me
  And let me shelter her, is the great wonder
  Of the world. You stand alone. You need no shelter,
  Rose-Red.
  BEA. 
  It may be so.
  MAR. 
  Will you forgive me?
  BEA.
  I had not thought of that. If it will please you,
  Ay, surely.--And now, the reason for my coming:
  I have a message for you, of such vast import
  She could not trust it to a liv'ried page,
  Or even a courier. She bids me tell you
  She loves you still, although you have been parted
  Since four o'clock.
  MAR. 
  [Happily.] 
  
  Did she say that?
  BEA. 
  Ay, Mario.
  I must return to her. It is not long now
  Till she will leave me.
  MAR.
  She will never leave you,
  She tells me, in her heart.
  BEA. 
[Happily.]
Did she say that?
  MAR. 
  Ay, that she did, and I was jealous of you
  One moment, till I called myself a fool.
  BEA.
  Nay, Mario, she does not take from you
  To give to me; and I am most content
  She told you that. I will go now. Farewell,
  Mario!
  MAR.
  Nay, we shall meet again, Beatrice! _ 
                 
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