So am I richer than yon painted duke that
needs must woo thee with my lips. And could I but win thee to love--ah,
Yolande, could I, despite these foolish trappings, this blemished face, see
Love look on me from thine eyes, O--then--"
"How--then--Joconde?"
"Then should Fool, by love exalted, change to man indeed and I--mount up to
heaven--thus!" So saying, Jocelyn began to climb by gnarled ivy and carven
buttress. And ever as he mounted she watched him through the silken curtain
of her hair, wide of eye and with hands tight-clasped.
"Ah, Joconde!" she whispered, "'t is madness--madness! Ah, Joconde!" But
swift he came and swung himself upon the balcony beside her and reached out
his arms in mute supplication, viewing her wistfully but with scarred face
transfigured by smile ineffably tender, and when he spoke his voice was
hushed and reverent.
"I am here, Yolande, because methought to read within thy look the wonder
of all wonders. But, O my lady, because I am but what I am, fain would I
hear thee speak it also.
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