Charles: Fulvia,
Friend of my unrepaying years, dream you
I who in empire youth too soon forgot,
Who on my brow surprise the wafted dew,
The presages of age and death, shake not?
Fulvia: I knew not, but have waited oft such words.
Charles: Ah what! this hope, this leaping in me, this
White dawn across my turbulence and night,
From license?—Hear me. I have sudden found
A door to let in heaven on my heart.
Had I not laughed to see your dread upon it
Write "license," perilous had been my frown.
Fulvia: You will——?
Charles: Yes—yes! About her brow shall curl
The coronet! Her wishes shall be sceptres
Waving a swift fulfilment to her feet!
Her pity shall leave ready graves unfilled,
Her anger open earth for all who offend!
She shall——
Fulvia: Ah cease, infatuate man! Will you
Build kingdoms on the wind, and empires on
A girl's ungiven heart?
Charles (slowly): Unto such love
As mine all things are given.
Fulvia: All things but love.
Charles: Stood she not as in pleading? Yes—and to
Her cheeks came hurried roses from her heart.
And her large eyes, did they not drift to mine
Caressing?—yet as if in them they found
The likeness of some visitant dear dream.
Fulvia: The likeness of some dream?