pirit, that is as free as mine, uplift my heart with a
word?"

So he petitioned her, ardently, and his warmth found favor in the girl's
grave, watchful eyes.

"I have heard you praised highly of late," she said, "and men give you
great promise. But, truly, I judge you with the sight of my own eyes,
not with the sound of others' words. And I think you are indeed a man
that a woman might be happy to love."

Dante's heart leaped to hear such sweet speech, and for very joy he was
silent awhile. Then he said: "If I be indeed anything worth weighing in
the scales of your favor, it is for your sake that I have made myself
so, Madonna."

Beatrice laughed a little, very gently, at his words, and pretended to
frown, and failed. "My cold reason," she asserted, "tells me that I
would rather you bettered yourself just for the sake of being better,
and with no less unselfish intention; but, to be honest, my warm heart
throbs at your homage."

Dante would have come closer, but she stayed him with a gesture. "You
make me very proud," he murmured.

Beatrice went on. "Yet I know well that men have done greatly to please
women that were not worth the pleasing, or merely for the lure of some
grace of hand or lip. I should like to think that my lover would always
live at his best for my sake, though he never won a kiss of me."

"Then here I swear it," Dante said, proudly, "to dedicate my life to
your service, and to make all honorable proof of my devotion. But you,
beloved, will you not give me some words of hope?"

Beatrice extended her hands to him, and he caught those dear hands in
his, and held them tightly, and Beatrice was smiling as she spoke,
although there were tears in her eyes. "So far," she said, "as a woman
can promise the life that is guided by another's law, I give you my
life, Dante. But my love is my own, to hold or to yield, and I give it
all to you with all my heart, knowing that because you think it worth
the winning, you will be worthy of what you have won."

Now, as I think, here my Dante made to take his lady in his arms, but
she denied him, very delicately and gently, pleading with such sweet
reason that the most ardent lover in the world could not refuse her
obedience. For she would have it thus, that until their love could be
avowed, as in time it might be, if Dante won to fame and honor in the
state, until their love could be avowed there should be no lover's
commerce between them, not even to the chang