ADELE. Yet ask me not to raise my voice in song; MARGARET. Didst learn this in a hedge? ADELE. Yes; from the quickset of that lady's eyes. MARGARET. A flattering hedger ! IOLA. Pretty gipsy, my heart is very sad; Wilt lighten it? Methinks, within thine eyes That can, on my unhappy life, Throw rays to guide me unto happiness. ADELE. Give me thy hand. Oh, thou most beautiful! (Iola gives her hand-Adele fixes her gaze on Iola-Iola looks on the ground.) Oh, fie! IOLA. I cannot look on thy dark eyes. ADELE (takes Iola's hand). What have we here? I would I held it not! I'd swear 't was chiselled snow,- -so dazzling Like as a harp-string at a master's touch, Even so feel I at thy sweet presence! What have we here? A cross-bar through thy hand! What does that portend? IOLA. ADELE. Misfortune. Yet never shall misfortune touch There is an eye above shall light thee; A hand most mighty that will save! But dry the tear which dims your eye; IOLA. We must; we must! On me will never shine MARGARET. Heyday! What's this?-what's this? ADELE. Thou lovest one who once to thee has spoken: IOLA. 'Tis true, 'tis true! Oh, let me weep, I pray! (Sobs.) MARGARET. You silly child! Gipsy, you must go. (To Adele.) IOLA (starting, and running to Adele). She SHALL NOT! That is, I pray you, dear, kind nurse, To let her stay. What is thy name, my pretty girl? (Margaret retires to flat.) They call me Adele. ADELE. IOLA (giving her hand). There is my hand ;-speak,-speak again! Behold! (Adele takes Iola's hand and kisses it.) ADELE. A sea-girt coast, with wild breakers dashing Behold, with tearful eye he wanders o'er IOLA (with impassioned eagerness). Ah, let me fly unto him! MARGARET. I do not understand a word of this. ADELE. I'm only telling how some lovesick swain MARGARET. 'Tis very true, no doubt. I do bethink 'Tis forty year ago, come Christmas tide, How one Josias Sniggs did die of love Because I did such things. Ah, me! ADELE. The very thought does make your heart grow sad. (Showing a pink ribbon.) I would be sworn that once it matched thy cheek! What days are lucky, what misfortunate; How that some day good folks will onward go, From one end to the other of the world, By means of boiling water!-a thing which cannot be. Her sceptre shall be changed by her touch; Shall make it glow with life,-an olive branch MARGARET. My pretty maid, what says it more? ADELE. The four divisions of the orbed world Shall bow their glittering heads, and own its power; And bear a living leaf to every man! Take it, good Margaret. (Margaret takes the book, and retires to window in flat.) IOLA. Will't bring a leaf to me? ADELE. He, whom we saw pacing the golden sands (Like mate-bereaved bird), with downcast eye, May bring thee one; but that it bears thee peace I dare not say! IOLA. Ah, yes, it must bring peace! ADELE. He sends to thee this ring. Whom do you mean? IOLA. ADELE. It is from one who's dying for thy love; Ah, speak,-speak! IOLA. ADELE. She loves me (aside). I told his fate this morn : It was a happy one. 10LA. And what said he? ADELE. Give her this ring, and bid her, if she love To heal the deep wounds of a breaking heart, To wear it for me. (Puts ring on Iola's finger-Margaret comes down to the parties.) MARGARET. Ha, ha!-what words-what words are these? By it right honestly? IOLA. See, how her heart is speaking in her cheek! Pray, heed her not; nurses are sometimes cross. ADELE. Margaret, thou dost not know me. Sweet lady, By that love I bear thee (for thy sorrows Are the causes of that love); by this heart, Which beats but for thee; by these aching eyes, Which from this hour have sight for naught save thee; And by my sacred faith, which here I pledge To thee;—that ring was honestly obtained! IOLA. I doubt thee not, sweet Adele. |