FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130  
131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   >>   >|  
fulfil at once your father's last injunction? VIC.--Ah! but this isn't the _last_ time, Henri; I'll wager you this hand with my heart in it, you will ask me the same question a dozen times yet ere you die. COUNT.--I'll not gainsay you, lady; time will show. (_A short pause._) Yet, by my sword, if such your wager be, I will be dumb till doomsday. VIC.--Then book the bet! and claim my heart and hand--(_she pauses--he waits in eager hope_)--on--doomsday morning, cousin! COUNT.--I claim thee now or never! VIC.--If they only hadn't said we _must_, Henri! COUNT.--Pshaw! VIC.--Beside, all the world _expects_ it you know; I do so hate to fulfil people's expectations: it is so commonplace and humdrum! COUNT.--Depend upon it, Lady Victorine, nobody ever expected you to do any thing reasonable or commonplace or humdrum! (_He Sings._) Archly on thy cheek, Worth a god's imprinting, Starry dimples speak, Rich with rosy tinting,-- What a pity, love, Anger's burning flushes E'er should rise above Those bewitching blushes! Warm thy lip doth glow, With such lovely color, Ruby's heart would show Hues of beauty duller,-- What a shame, the while, Scorn should ever curl it, And o'ercast the smile That should still enfurl it! Soft thy dark eye beams, With the star-night's splendor, Now with joy it gleams, Now with tears 'tis tender,-- Ah! what pain to feel, Ere another minute, Passion's fire may steal All the softness in it! VIC.--There! you CAN _sing_! I'll give the----hem!--his due. I only wish you could make love as well as you make verses. COUNT.--And how should I make love? VIC.--How? You should be at my feet all day and under my window all night; you should call black white when _I_ call it so, and--wear a single hair of my eyelash next your heart for ever. COUNT.--Hum! Any thing more, cousin? VIC.--Yes: you should write sonnets on the sole of my shoe, and study every curve of my brow, as if life and death were in its rise or fall! (_He turns away._) Henri, come here! (_He approaches._) Come! you are a good-looking man enough, after all! Ah! why couldn't my poor father have _forbidden_ me to marry you! He might have known I should have been _sure_ in that case to have fallen desperately in love with you, Henri! COUNT.--By Heaven, I will bear this trifling no long
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130  
131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
doomsday
 

commonplace

 

cousin

 

humdrum

 

father

 
fulfil
 
verses
 

splendor

 
window
 

softness


Passion

 

gleams

 
tender
 

minute

 
couldn
 

forbidden

 
Heaven
 
trifling
 

desperately

 

fallen


approaches

 

sonnets

 

single

 

eyelash

 

morning

 

pauses

 

expects

 

people

 

expectations

 

Beside


question

 
injunction
 

gainsay

 

Depend

 

lovely

 
bewitching
 

blushes

 
beauty
 

ercast

 
enfurl

duller
 

reasonable

 
Archly
 
expected
 

Victorine

 

imprinting

 
burning
 

flushes

 
tinting
 

Starry