Julia. [Sighing deeply.] Yes.
Wal. And sighest thou to know her? Wait until
To-morrow, when the banquet shall be spread
In the fair hall; the guests—already bid,
Around it; here, her lord; and there, herself;
Presiding o’er the cheer that hails him bridegroom,
And her the happy bride! Dost hear me?
Julia. [Sighing still more deeply.] Yes.
Wal. These are the day-rooms only, we have seen.
For public and domestic uses kept.
I’ll show you now the lodging-rooms.
[Goes, then turns and observes Julia standing perfectly abstracted.]
You’re tired.
Let it be till after dinner, then. Yet one
I’d like thee much to see—the bridal chamber.
[Julia starts, crosses her hands upon her breast, and looks upwards.]
I see you’re tired: yet it is worth the viewing,
If only for the tapestry which shows
The needle like the pencil glows with life;
[Brings down chairs—they sit.]
The story’s of a page who loved the dame
He served—a princess!—Love’s a heedless thing!
That never takes account of obstacles;
Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas,
That part it from its wish. So proved the page,
Who from a state so lowly, looked so high,—
But love’s a greater lackwit still than this.
Say it aspires—that’s gain! Love stoops—that’s loss!
You know what comes. The princess loved the page.
Shall I go on, or here leave off?