Shakespeare:
Like all rebels in order to taste the sweets of sovereignty.
Hughes [Sings the second verse.]
“For love has more pow’r and less mercy than fate,
To make us seek ruin, to make us seek ruin,
And love those that hate.
I attempt from Love’s sickness to fly in vain,
Since I am myself, my own fever,
Since I am myself, my own fever and pain.”
[As Hughes finishes Miss Fitton rises. Hughes, bowing, goes out.]