We are saved, we are lost, we are lovers all the same!"
All in order, all complete,—even to a clue
To the drowsiness that happed so opportune—
No mystery, when I read, "Of all things, find
What wine Sir Jealousy decides to drink—
Red wine? Because a sleeping-potion, dust
Dropped into white, discolors wine and shows."
—"Oh, but we did not write a single word!
Somebody forged the letters in our name!—"
Both in a breath protested presently.