And it is well perhaps we shall not marry. 
You have a sly, equivocating vein
That suits me not.—­Ah, wretched that I am! 
Where shall I turn?  Even now you look on me 30
As you were not my friend, and as if you
Discovered that I thought so, with false smiles
Making my true suspicion seem your wrong. 
Ah, no! forgive me; sorrow makes me seem
Sterner than else my nature might have been; 35
I have a weight of melancholy thoughts,
And they forebode,—­but what can they forebode
Worse than I now endure?

NOTE: 
24 And thus editions 1821, 1839; And yet edition 1819.

ORSINO: 
All will be well. 
Is the petition yet prepared?  You know
My zeal for all you wish, sweet Beatrice; 40
Doubt not but I will use my utmost skill
So that the Pope attend to your complaint.

BEATRICE: 
Your zeal for all I wish;—­Ah me, you are cold! 
Your utmost skill...speak but one word...
[ASIDE.]
Alas! 
Weak and deserted creature that I am, 45
Here I stand bickering with my only friend!
[TO ORSINO.]
This night my father gives a sumptuous feast,
Orsino; he has heard some happy news
From Salamanca, from my brothers there,
And with this outward show of love he mocks 50
His inward hate.  ’Tis bold hypocrisy,
For he would gladlier celebrate their deaths,
Which I have heard him pray for on his knees: 
Great God! that such a father should be mine! 
But there is mighty preparation made, 55
And all our kin, the Cenci, will be there,
And all the chief nobility of Rome. 
And he has bidden me and my pale Mother
Attire ourselves in festival array. 
Poor lady!  She expects some happy change 60
In his dark spirit from this act; I none. 
At supper I will give you the petition: 
Till when—­farewell.

ORSINO: 
Farewell.
[EXIT BEATRICE.]
I know the Pope
Will ne’er absolve me from my priestly vow
But by absolving me from the revenue 65
Of many a wealthy see; and, Beatrice,
I think to win thee at an easier rate. 
Nor shall he read her eloquent petition: 
He might bestow her on some poor relation
Of his sixth cousin, as he did her sister, 70
And I should be debarred from all access. 
Then as to what she suffers from her father,
In all this there is much exaggeration:—­
Old men are testy and will have their way;
A man may stab his enemy, or his vassal, 75
And live a free life as to wine or women,
And with a peevish temper may return
To a dull home, and rate his wife and children;
Daughters and wives call this foul tyranny.