ch as I would not irk your ears withal:
Howbeit I came at last, and nigh a week
Have tarried in the region hereabouts,
Unknown--and yearning for one glimpse of you,
One word, one kiss from you, if even it were
One only and the last; until, to-day,
Roaming the neighbouring forest, I espied
Your husband, guessed it was your husband, feigned
I was a traveller who had lost myself
Among the woods, received from him--ah, now
You laugh, and truly 'tis a famous jest--
A courteous invitation to his house,
Deemed it were churlish to refuse, and so--
And so am here, your Ugo, with a heart
The loyal subject of your sovereign heart,
As in old days." Therewith he sat him down,
And softly drawing her upon his knee
Made him a zone of her lascivious arms.

But thus encinctured hardly had he sat
A moment, when, returning, Angelo
Stood at the threshold of the room, and held
The door half opened, and so standing saw
The lovers, and they saw not him; for half
The chamber lay in shadow, by no lamp
Lighted, or window to admit the moon:
And there the entrance was, and Angelo.

And listening to their speech a little space,
The fugitive brief moments were to him
A pyramid of piled eternities.
For while he hearkened, Ugo said: "My love,
Answer me this one question, which may seem
Idle, yet is not;--how much lov'st thou me?"
And she replied: "I love thee just as much
As I do hate my husband, and no more."
Then he: "But prithee how much hatest thou
Thy husband?" And she answered: "Ev'n as much
As I love thee. To hate him one whit more
Than that, were past the power of Lucia's hate."
And Ugo: "If thou lovest me so much,
Grant me one gift in token of thy love."
Then she: "What would'st thou?" And he answered her:
"Even thyself; no poorer gift will I."
But Lucia said: "Nay, have I not bestowed
My love, which is my soul, my richer self?
My poorer self, which is my body, how
Can I bestow, when 'tis not in mine own
Possession, being his property forsooth,
Who holds the ecclesiastic title-deed?...
Yet--but I know not ... if I grant this boon,
Bethink thee, how wilt carry hence the gift?
Quick. For the time is all-too brief to waste."
And Ugo spake with hurrying tongue: "Right so:
To-morrow, therefore, when the sun hath set,
Quit thou the castle, all alone, and haste
To yonder tarn that lies amid the trees
Haply a furlong westward from your house--
The gloomy lakelet fringed with pines--and there
Upon the hither margin thou shalt