Our only hope is flight: misleading others,
She has fallen into a trap: she is bound to marry
That fool St. Nicholas. I must persuade her
To run away. Unless we meet, the moment
Of all our life is past.
R.I see it: I see it.—
And so she hath writ to me! Why should these words,
Writ by her hand so set my heart adance?
Is it beautiful? Nay,—but ’tis my name that leads
Every direction of these little curves,