Helena: Then have you also dreamt!
He looked as you, when, moonlight in my hair,
You call me——
Antonio: Stay: I'll call you so no more.
Helena: You'll call me so no more?
Antonio: No more.
Helena: Why do
You say so—is it kind?
Antonio: Why?—why? Because
Words were they miracles of beauty could
As little reveal you as a taper's ray
The lone profundity and space of night!
Helena: And yet——
Antonio: And yet?
Helena: I'll hold you not too false
If sometimes they trip out upon your lips.
Antonio: Or to my father's eye?