Part 20 (1/2)

Brian and Basil are ”punting”, leave them their dice and their wine, Bertha is b.u.t.terfly hunting, surely one hour shall be mine.

See, I have done with all duty; see, I can dare all disgrace, Only to look at your beauty, feasting my eyes on your face.

She: Look at me, aye, till your eyes ache! How, let me ask, will it end?

Neither for your sake, nor my sake, but for the sake of my friend?

He: Is she your friend then? I own it, this is all wrong, and the rest, Frustra sed anima monet, caro quod fortius est.

She: Not quite so close, Laurence Raby, not with your arm round my waist; Something to look at I may be, nothing to touch or to taste.

He: Wilful as ever and wayward; why did you tempt me, Estelle?

She: You misinterpret each stray word, you for each inch take an ell.

Lightly all laws and ties trammel me, I am warn'd for all that.

He (aside): Perhaps she will swallow her camel when she has strained at her gnat.

She: Therefore take thought and consider, weigh well, as I do, the whole, You for mere beauty a bidder, say, would you barter a soul?

He: Girl! THAT MAY happen, but THIS IS; after this welcome the worst; Blest for one hour by your kisses, let me be evermore curs'd.

Talk not of ties to me reckless, here every tie I discard-- Make me your girdle, your necklace--

She: Laurence, you kiss me too hard.

He: Aye, 'tis the road to Avernus, n'est ce pas vrai donc, ma belle?

There let them bind us or burn us, mais le jeu vaut la chandelle.

Am I your lord or your va.s.sal? Are you my sun or my torch?

You, when I look at you, dazzle, yet when I touch you, you scorch.

She: Yonder are Brian and Basil watching us fools from the porch.

Scene X ”After the Quarrel”

Laurence Raby's Chamber. LAURENCE enters, a little the worse for liquor.

Laurence: He never gave me a chance to speak, And he call'd her--worse than a dog-- The girl stood up with a crimson cheek, And I fell'd him there like a log.

I can feel the blow on my knuckles yet-- He feels it more on his brow.

In a thousand years we shall all forget The things that trouble us now.

Scene XI ”Ten Paces Off”

An open country. LAURENCE RABY and FORREST, BRIAN AYLMER and PRESCOT.