r the wild, reckless, wicked days flown over;
Still, we have lived; the vice was in its place.
But to have eaten Luca's bread, have worn 140
His clothes, have felt his money swell my purse--
Do lovers in romances sin that way?
Why, I was starving when I used to call
And teach you music, starving while you plucked me
These flowers to smell! 145

_Ottima._ My poor lost friend!

_Sebald._ He gave me
Life, nothing else; what if he did reproach
My perfidy, and threaten, and do more--
Had he no right? What was to wonder at?
He sat by us at table quietly--
Why must you lean across till our cheeks touched? 150
Could he do less than make pretense to strike?
'Tis not the crime's sake--I'd commit ten crimes
Greater, to have this crime wiped out, undone!
And you--oh, how feel you? Feel you for me?

_Ottima._ Well then, I love you better now than ever, 155
And best (look at me while I speak to you)--
Best for the crime; nor do I grieve, in truth,
This mask, this simulated ignorance,
This affectation of simplicity,
Falls off our crime; this naked crime of ours 160
May not now be looked over--look it down!
Great? Let it be great; but the joys it brought,
Pay they or no its price? Come: they or it
Speak not! The past, would you give up the past
Such as it is, pleasure and crime together? 165
Give up that noon I owned my love for you?
The garden's silence! even the single bee
Persisting in his toil, suddenly stopped,
And where he hid you only could surmise
By some campanula chalice set a-swing. 170
Who stammered--"Yes, I love you?"

_Sebald._ And I drew
Back; put far back your face with both my hands
Lest you should grow too full of me--your face
So seemed athirst for my whole soul and body!

_Ottima._ And when I ventured to receive you here, 175
Made you steal hither in the mornings--

_Sebald._ When
I used to look up 'neath the shrub-house here,
Till the red fire on its glazed windows spread
To a yellow haze?

_Ottima._ Ah--my sign was, the sun
Inflamed the sear side of yon chestnut-tree 180