98
ROMIERO: A TRAGEDY.
MAURICE.
To see thy figure moving in thy veil,
Is worth a course of five good miles at least;
To see thy glowing face of welcome is,
At lowest reckoning, worth ten score of leagues
By sea or land; and this soft thrilling pressure,—
O! 'tis worth all the leagues that gird the globe.
(Taking her hand.)
BEATRICE.
I needs must chide thee for it, thoughtless boy!
MAURICE.
And too good months to boot!—Such high pretension!
Have sixteen summers and a woman's robe
Made thee so very wise and consequential?
BEATRICE (giving him two mock blows on his shoulder).
MAURICE (catching both her hands and kissing them separately).
When this and this are added to the gift.
BEATRICE.