Licence: Public Domain Mark
Credit: The poetical works of Alfred Tennyson. Source: Wellcome Collection.
Provider: This material is part of the Elmer Belt Florence Nightingale collection. The original may be consulted at University of California Libraries.
804/870 page 768
![Edgar. That, if we did not strain to make ourselves Better and higher than Nature, we might be As happy as the bees there at their honey lu these sweet blossoiiAs. J'Jva. Yes ; how sweet they smell! Edgar, There ! let me break some off for you. [Breaking branch off. Eva. My thanks. But, look, how wasteful of the blossom you are! One, two, three, four, five, sis. ^— you have robb'd poor father Of ten good apples. Oh, ] forgot to tell you H'i wishes you to dine along with us, And speak for him after — you that are so clever! Edgar. I grieve I cannot; but, in- deed— Eva. What is it 1 Edgar. Well, business. I must leave you, love, to-day. Eva. Leave me, today ! And when will you return 1 Edgar. I cannot tell precisely ; but — Eva. But what ? Edgar. I trust, my dear, we shall be always friends. Eva. After all that has gone between us — friends! What, only friends ? [Drops branch. Edgar. All that has gone between us Should surely make us friends. Eva. But keep us lovers. Edgar. Child, do you love nie now ? Eva. Yes, now and ever. Edgar. Then you should wish us both to love for ever. But, if you will bind love to one for ever, Altho' at first he take his bonds for flowers. As years go on, he feels them press upon him, Begins to flutter in them, and at last Breaks thro' them, and so flies away for ever; While, had you left him free use of his wings. Who knows that he had ever dream'd of flying ? Eva. But all that sounds so wicked and so strange ; Till death us part — those are the only words. The true ones — nay, and those not true enough. For they that love do not believe that death Will part them. Why do you jest with me, and try To frighten me ? Tho' you are a gentle- man, I but a farmer's daughter — Edgar. Tut! you talk Old feudalism. When the great Demoo- racy Makes a new world — Eva. And if you be not jesting, Neither the old world, nor ihe new, nor father. Sister, nor you, shall ever see me more. Edgar (moved). Then — (aside) Shall I say if?—(aloud) fly witli me to- day. Eva. No! Philip, Philip, if you do not mari'y me, I shall go mad for utter shame and die. Edgar. Then, if we needs must be conventional, When shall your parish-parson bawl our banns Before your gaping clowns ? Eva. Not in our church — I think I scarce could hold my head up there. Is there no other way ? Edgar. Yes, if you cared To fee an over-opulent superstition, Then they would grant you what they call a licence To marry. Do you wish it. Eva. Do I wish it ? Edgar, In London. Eva. You will write to me ? Edgar.. I will Eva. And I will fly to you thro' the night, the storm — Yes, tho' the fire should run along the ground. As once it did in Egypt. Oh, you see, I was just out of school, I had nr mother — My sister far away — and you, a gentle- man. Told me to trust you: yes, in every. thing — That was the only true love; and I trusted — Oh, yes, indeed, I would have died for you, How could you — Oh, how could you'{— nay, how could I?](https://iiif.wellcomecollection.org/image/b20452597_0804.jp2/full/800%2C/0/default.jpg)
