BERTUCCIO.
I love thee with a love strong as the hate
I bear for all but thee. Come, sit beside me,
With thy pure hand in mine, and tell me still,
"I love you," and "I love you,"—only that.
Smile on me—so! thy smile is passing sweet!
Thy mother used to smile so once; oh, God!
I cannot bear it. Do not smile; it wakes
Memories that tear my heart-strings. Do not look
So like thy mother, or I shall go mad!
FIORDELISA.
Oh, tell me of my mother!
BERTUCCIO (shuddering).
No, no, no!
FIORDELISA.
She's dead?
BERTUCCIO.
Yes.
FIORDELISA.
You were with her when she died?
BERTUCCIO.
No! Leave the dead alone; talk of thyself,
Thy life here. Thou heed'st well my caution, girl,—
Not to go out by day, nor show thyself
There, at the casement.
FIORDELISA.
Yes; some day, I hope,
You will take me with you, but to see the town;
'T is so hard to be shut up here, alone.
