If she but dared to
assert to him the right which she thinks she has, she would
gladly inform him of the truth; but she does not dare, and cannot
do it. They dare neither speak nor act in accordance with what
each sees in the other--which works a great hardship to them
both, and their love but grows and flames the more. However, it
is the custom of all lovers to feast their eyes gladly with
gazing, if they can do no more; and they assume that, because
they find pleasure in that which causes their love to be born and
grow, therefore it must be to their advantage; whereas it only
harms them more, just as he who approaches and draws close beside
the fire burns himself more than he who holds aloof. Their love
waxes and grows anon; but each is abashed before the other, and
so much is hidden and concealed that no flame or smoke arises
from the coals beneath the ashes. The heat is no less on this
account, but rather is better sustained beneath the ashes than
above. Both of them are in great torment; for, in order that
none may perceive their trouble, they are forced to deceive
people by a feigned bearing; but at night comes the bitter moan,
which each one makes within his breast. Of Alexander I will tell
you first how he complains and vents his grief.
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