A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England

GUIDO.
And why?

ADELMINE.
I know not why I dare not—this I know—
Mine eyes do fill with tears, my heart doth beat
To very pain, when I do look on thee,
Or hear thee speak.

GUIDO.
“Tears!” “Pain!”—Thou dost not hate me?

ADELMINE.
I cannot tell—I do not think I hate thee.

GUIDO.
Dost love me then?

ADELMINE.
I cannot tell, and would not if I could.

GUIDO.
Who taught thee that cold “would not?”

ADELMINE.
A low, soft voice within; even now I hear
Its fairy murmur in my trembling soul,
It whispers still “Beware!”

GUIDO.
Oh! not of me!

ADELMINE.
No! but of owning unrequited love.

GUIDO.
Wert ever wooed ere now?

ADELMINE.
Then thou dost woo me!

GUIDO.
Ay! and will, fair child! till thou art won!

ADELMINE.
Dost note this simple garb?

GUIDO.
Yes! loveliest!

ADELMINE.
It is a peasant's.

GUIDO.
Well!

ADELMINE.
Wouldst wed a peasant?

GUIDO.
I would wed thee wert thou a beggar, sweet.

ADELMINE.
And when?

GUIDO.
Now, now! so thou wilt love me!

ADELMINE.
Now do I bless thee, false and lost Elfrida.
This lowly guise, which thy beguiling voice
Did lure me to assume, has proved in sooth
An elfin charm, to test a generous heart.

GUIDO.
What meanst thou, maiden?

ADELMINE.
See!
(She throws off her coif, and releases her long hair, which is adorned with gems.)
I am a noble's child!

GUIDO
(starting back.)
Oh! would thou wert not so!

ADELMINE.
And why?

GUIDO.
No noble I.

ADELMINE.
And art thou not? then doth thy brow belie thee.
Thou art! I read it in thy proud dark eyes,
Whose glance is truth and love, and in those lips,
Whose smile is but a ray of the soul's sunshine;

In thy high bearing, in thy movements, words,
Thou art of heaven's nobility—as far
Excelling earth's as doth yon winged star,
Robed in its garment of celestial glory,
Outshine the earth-bound glow-worm.

GUIDO.
Alas! sweet maiden! I am viewed by thee
Thro' the pure light of thine own innocent spirit,
Illumining all that comes within its sphere.
As rugged hills, seen through an atmosphere
Sunny and soft, seem robed in heavenly hues
And radiance not their own. Yet shine thou still
In thy young virgin loveliness upon me,
And I will realise thy loftiest dream.

ADELMINE.
I know thou wilt; and now farewell, my friend!
Elfrida waits my coming. Poor Elfrida!
Her maiden, Gillian, tells me she is crased,
And raves of crowns and thrones, and vaunts how she,
If she were England's queen, would rule the world

GUIDO.
Alas! she cannot even rule herself;
Her passions are too fierce for majesty.
'Tis strange, dear Adelmine, whene'er I dream,
As oft I do, of England's future glory,
The self-same lovely apparition rises,
Sceptred and crowned. I will describe it, sweet,
As I have seen it in my midnight visions.
Fancy the sun of England in its zenith,
And on its throne a youthful fair-haired creature,
Round whom in reverence throng th' adoring train
Of noble, lovely, wise, and great, and good,—
Like Dian, throned in light and circled by
The starry powers,—Dian, ere yet she pressed
In youthful joy Endymion's dimpled cheek,
And left a rosy lustre floating there
From that soft kiss which, gleaming thro' the night,
Reach'd with its tremulous ray th' Olympian height
And treacherously betrayed her to the gods.
Canst thou not fancy her, my Adelmine!
When veiled in mist, and smiling thro' her veil,—
Glowing with maiden loveliness and love!
Her golden tresses rippling o'er her feet,—
She trod with steps of light the Latmian mount,
And softly stealing—

ADELMINE.
But the queen, my friend!

GUIDO.
Ah! fairest! fear me not! no word of mine
Shall bid the rose of modesty unfold
To lend thy cheek its blushes—Yes! the queen—
A maiden queen—gentle and yet high-souled
In the first glow of lovely womanhood—
Pure as the snow-drop in the early dew
With morning's flush upon it—firm and proud
In her own high resolves, yet still relying
With modest trust on those she knows more wise—
True to herself and heaven, and true to all
Whose destinies are hers—in heart and deed,
And when the cares of empire are thrown by,
Artless, and timid, and confiding as
The nestling dove within its woodland home,
And playful too and loving as a child;
Owning in every subject-heart a throne,
Where she is crowned and knelt to by affection.
Is't not a woman worthy of the realm?

ADELMINE.
Ah, yes! but I had rather thou wouldst dream

Of me in future. I must leave thee now.
I go to con this new sweet lesson o'er,
Which thou and Love have taught me.
Fare thee well!

GUIDO.
Farewell mine own! And be not jealous, sweet,
I'll warrant thee thine image warmed my heart,
When I did draw that glowing picture from it.

[Exeunt at different doors.

University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.