(Falls abased before Laura's look, tortured with remorse.)
O lady, what have I done beyond repair!...
(She gathers her veil.)
What have I lost within this gulf of shame!
For a paltry pleasure have I sold my dream,
Whose pinions would have lifted you at last?
Laura (very pale). I did not know, Messer Petrarca, you
Had friends awaiting.
(Pauses numbly.)
I came to-night, as first I would have said,
With holy gratitude—[30]
For a love I thought you gave.
With gratitude that honor well could speak,
I thought, and yet be honor;
With gratitude forgetful of all else ...
And trusting ... But no matter:
All trust shall be embalmed and laid away.
I go with pity; seeing
My husband—is even as other men.
(She passes to the door and out: Petrarca moans. Then Lello enters and comes to him anxiously.)
Lello. Francesco!
Petrarca. Lello!