Part 4 (2/2)

What shall we liken to her dainty skin?

Her arm, for instance?--

_Wild_. Snow will match it.

_True_. Snow!

It is her arm without the smoothness on't; Then is not snow transparent. 'Twill not do.

_Wild_. A pearl's transparent!

_True_. So it is, but yet Yields not elastic to the thrilled touch!

I know not what to liken to her arm Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be The chosen friend of two such neighbours!

_Wild_. Would His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free With neighbour Constance! Can't he let her arms Alone! I trust their chosen friend Will ne'er be he! I'm vexed. [Aside.]

_True_. But graceful things Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use!

Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room?

_Wild_. [Snappishly.] No.

_True_. No! Why, where have been your eyes?

_Wild_. In my head!

But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.]

_True_. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which She floats as though she were a form of air; The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't; Her movements are the painting of the strain, Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness!

Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment Another one, and each, except its fellow, Without a peer! You have danced with her!

_Wild_. I hate To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course You have danced with her?

_True_. I have.

_Wild_. You have?

_True_. I have.

_Wild_. I do abominate to dance!--could carve Fiddlers and company! A dancing man To me was ever like a dancing dog!

Save less to be endured.--Ne'er saw I one But I bethought me of the master's whip.

_True_. A man might bear the whip to dance with her!

_Wild_. Not if I had the laying of it on!

_True_. Well; let that pa.s.s. The lady is the theme.

_Wild_. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.]

_True_. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp!

How well she sings to them! Whoe'er would prove The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing, Especially a love-song!

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