Poe. No, no! No bed for me to-night! I must work!
Vir. No bed, indeed! I did not say bed, my lord! You are going to sit down here (Places him on footstool) and I shall sit here, (settles in chair) and your head in my lap—my hands on your head—and the crooningest of little songs will bring you the sweetest snatch of sleep that you ever, ever had!
Poe. O, ’t is heaven, Virginia! But you are too tired, my angel. You must sleep.
Vir. And so I shall when my lord shows me the way.
(Poe drops his head on her lap. She turns down light. He falls asleep as she sings softly)
Like a fallen star on the breast of the sea
My lover rests on the heart of me;
The lord of the tempest hies him down
From his billow-crest to his cavern-throne,
And ’t is peace as wide as the eye can see
When my lover rests on the heart of me.
(Silence. Virginia droops in sleep. No light but dull red coals.)
(CURTAIN)
ACT IV.
Scene I: An old bookstore, New York. Bookseller arranging books. Helen at one side looking over shelves. Poe enters. He wears a military cloak and jaunty cap. Throws book on table and whistles carelessly.