To do but to remember. She would be withered
With pity for me. She holds me very dear.

MAR. I promise it, Rose-Red. And oh, believe me,
I said no word to you last year that is not
As true today! I hold you still the noblest
Of women, and the bravest. I have not changed.
Only last year I did not know I could love
As I love now. Her gentleness has crept so
Into my heart, it never will be out.
That she should turn to me and cling to me
And let me shelter her, is the great wonder
Of the world. You stand alone. You need no shelter,
Rose-Red.

BEA. It may be so.

MAR. Will you forgive me?

BEA. I had not thought of that. If it will please you,
Ay, surely.--And now, the reason for my coming:
I have a message for you, of such vast import
She could not trust it to a liv'ried page,
Or even a courier. She bids me tell you
She loves you still, although you have been parted
Since four o'clock.

MAR. [Happily.] Did she say that?

BEA. Ay, Mario.