Festus. Fail! “In the bright lexicon of youth, there’s no such word as fail.”
Stella. Ah! but, in attempts at acting, there are many failures.
Festus. True; but yours will not be one of them.
Stella. (Aside.) Another compliment! I begin to like the fellow.
Festus. Now, then, the scene! (Stella takes a bouquet from the table, sits on tête-à-tête, r.)
Scene from “The Marble Heart.” Arranged for this piece. Published in No. 15 Reading-Club.
PART II.
Scene.—Same as before. Enter Festus, c.
Festus. It is astonishing how much a little borrowed plumage becomes a bashful man. The ice once broken by the inspiring thoughts and words of the love-sick “Raphael,” I feel now almost equal to the composition and delivery of an energetic and passionate appeal that shall carry the heart of the lady by storm; but then, having once been refused, I dread a second attempt. “A burnt child fears the fire;” and a singed lover trembles before the blazing eyes of the object of his adoration. I have yet a short time before the expiration of my hour of trial, and the character of “Sir Thomas Clifford” from which to borrow courage. (Enter Stella, c.)
Stella. Well, mysterious “Festus,” what new fancy is agitating your fertile brain?