And sting our souls in dreams!—My heart! and you?—
How could you deem my thoughtless words to be
The voice of so deform’d a wish as this?”
“But father,” said I, “he, the priest, your friend,—
At least, it seem’d—so thought.”
“The priest!” he cried,
“Has he been meddling with your malady?—
My friend?—My friend is he no more.”
“Nay, I,”
I said, “had sought his counsel; even then