Ned. Yes, Mary, every word. O, it seems as though a reviving draught had been poured through my veins, and life, strong, healthy life was coming back to me. Now I can speak, give utterance to that which you have discovered, but which I, weak, distrustful, hid in my own bosom. Now, Mary, I can tell you I love you.
Mary. Ned, have I done right to break my promise?
Ned. Yes, Mary. You have obeyed the dictates of your heart. Douglas is unworthy the rich prize he seeks.
Mary. Had I known you were listening, Ned, I fear my tongue would have refused to do its duty.
Ned. And you love me?
Mary. Yes, Ned, with all my heart.
Ned. O, you make me so happy! An hour ago life seemed not worth living for; but now, with your love to cheer me, all is bright and hopeful. It’s a glorious world! and never fear but I will find a way to lead you, not to toil and poverty, not to wealth and luxury, but to a comfortable home, where the ring of my hammer and the sound of your voice shall blend in sweet accord.
Mary. Why, Ned, what magic’s here? Your eye is bright, your cheek glowing, your whole manner so unlike you! I’m frightened.
Ned. Magic? The magic of a woman’s love, which can transform age to youth, and make the dull heart beat with healthy power. You smile on me, and I am strong again.
Mary. Now be careful. Remember you are an invalid. Bless me! how late it is! Come, you must to bed at once. Remember I am your nurse still.