This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night—good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
Rom. Oh! wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it.
Shakspere.
So Hugh. Riversdale had returned home to England.