away in sore displeasure
with me, with my heart and with my tongue. O most loyal and faithful of
women, I do confess myself the most disloyal, fickle and faithless of
all men. Gladly would I complain of the Duke in whose promise I trusted,
hoping thus to continue our happy life; but alas! I should have known
that none could keep our secret better than I kept it myself. The Duke
had more reason in telling his secret to his wife than I in telling mine
to him. I accuse none but myself of the greatest wickedness that was
ever done between lovers. I ought to have submitted to be cast into the
moat as he threatened to do with me; at least, sweetheart, you would
then have lived in widowhood and I have died a glorious death in
observing the law that true love enjoins. But through breaking it I am
now in life, and you, through perfectness of love, are dead; for your
pure, clear heart could not bear to know the wickedness of your lover.

"O my God! why didst Thou endow me with so light a love and so ignorant
a heart? Why didst thou not create me as the little dog that faithfully
served his mistress? Alas, my little friend, the joy your bark was wont
to give me is turned to deadly sorrow, now that another than we twain
has heard your voice. Yet, sweetheart, neither the love of the Duchess
nor of any living woman turned me aside, though indeed that wicked one
did often ask and entreat me. 'Twas by my ignorance, which thought to
secure our love for ever, that I was overcome. Yet for that ignorance am
I none the less guilty; for I revealed my sweetheart's secret and broke
my promise to her, and for this cause alone do I see her lying dead
before my eyes. Alas, sweetheart, death will to me be less cruel than
to you, whose love has ended your innocent life. Methinks it would not
deign to touch my faithless and miserable heart; for life with dishonour
and the memory of that which I have lost through guilt would be harder
to bear than ten thousand deaths. Alas, sweetheart, had any dared to
slay you through mischance or malice, I should quickly have clapped hand
to sword to avenge you; 'tis therefore right that I should not pardon
the murderer who has caused your death by a more wicked act than any
sword-thrust. Did I know a viler executioner than myself, I would
entreat him to put your traitorous lover to death. O Love! I have
offended thee from not having known how to love, and therefore thou wilt
not succour me as thou didst succour he