Thou bear’st to one who never can be thine!
Yes, love! Deceive thyself no longer. False
To say ’tis pity for his fall,—respect
Engendered by a hollow world’s disdain,
Which hoots whom fickle fortune cheers no more!
’Tis none of these: ’tis love, and, if not love,
Why, then, idolatry! Ay, that’s the name
To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion
That ever woman’s heart was borne away by!
He comes! Thou’dst play the lady,—play it now!