Never, lady, never --
But ah! the past, the irrevocable past --
We can but meet to mourn.

I:3:25 SOL.
No, not to mourn
I came to bless thee, came to tell to thee
I hoped that thou wert happy.

I:3:26 ALAR.
Come to mourn.
I'll find delight in my unbridled grief:
Yes! let me fling away at last this mask,
And gaze upon my woe.

I:3:27 SOL.
O, it was rash,
Indeed 'twas rash, Alarcos; what, sweet sir,
What, after all our vows, to hold me false,
And place this bar between us! I'll not think
Thou ever loved'st me as thou did'st profess,
And that's the bitter drop.

I:3:28 ALAR.
Indeed, indeed --

I:3:29 SOL.
I could bear much, I could bear all, but this
My faith in thy past love, it was so deep,
So pure, so sacred, 'twas my only solace;