If you loved me not!" And I who—(ah, for words of flame!) adore her,
Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—
[He enters, approaches her seat, and bends over her.
I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,
And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me!
[The Earl throws off his slouched hat and long cloak.
My very heart sings, so I sing, Beloved!
Mil. Sit, Henry—do not take my hand!
Mer. 'T is mine.
The meeting that appalled us both so much