we stand now--discoursed as we discourse,--
But with this difference,--fifty gentle words
He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him!--
What a dear cousin! Well, as I did say,
As now I questioned thee, she questioned him.
And what was his reply? To think of it
Sets my heart beating--'twas so kind a one!
So like a cousin's answer--a dear cousin!
A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin!
What did he say?--A man might find it out,
Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love--
What did he say? He'd marry her himself!
How stupid are you, cousin! Let me go!

_Mod_. You are not well yet?

_Helen_. Yes.

_Mod_. I'm sure you're not.

_Helen_. I'm sure I am.

_Mod_. Nay, let me hold you, cousin! I like it.

_Helen_. Do you? I would wager you
You could not tell me why you like it. Well?
You see how true I know you! How you stare!
What see you in my face to wonder at?

_Mod_. A pair of eyes!

_Helen_. At last he'll find his tongue--[Aside.]
And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before?

_Mod_. Not such a pair.

_Helen_. And why?

_Mod_. They are so bright!
You have a Grecian nose.

_Helen_. Indeed.

_Mod_. Indeed!

_Helen_. What kind of mouth have I?

_Mod_. A handsome one. I never saw so sweet a pair of lips!
I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin!

_Helen_. Cousin, I'm well,--you need not hold me now.
Do you not hear? I tell you I am well!
I need your arm no longer--take 't away!
So tight it locks me, 'tis with pain I breathe!
Let me go, cousin! Wherefore do you hold
Your face so close to mine? What do you mean?

_Mod_. You've questioned me, and now I'll question you.

_Helen_. What would you learn?

_Mod_. The use of lips.

_Helen_. To speak.

_Mod_. Naught else?

_Helen_. How bold my modest cousin grows!
Why, other use know you?

_Mod_. I do!

_Helen_. Indeed!
You're wondrous wise? And pray what is it?

_Mod_. This! [Attempts to kiss her.]

_Helen_. Soft! my hand thanks you, cousin--for my lips
I keep them for a husband!--Nay, stand off!
I'll not be held in manacles again!
Why do you follow me?

_Mod_. I love you, cousin!

_Helen_. O cousin, say you so! That's passing strange!
Falls out most crossly--is a dire mishap--
A thing to sigh for, weep for, languish for,
And die for!

_Mod_. Die for!

_Helen_, Yes, with laughter, cousin,
For, cousin, I love you!

_Mod_. And you'll be mine?

_Helen_. I will.

_Mod_. Your hand upon i