Why Jesus Wept

WHY JESUS WEPT 31 I am happy—let me see ! I guess some verse inspired By all her soul desired, Purity, love, well-being — ay ! and me ! [He opens the note, and reads : — “ To love you, Love, is all my happiness ! To kill you with my kisses ; to devour Your whole ripe beauty in the perfect hour That mingles us in one supreme caress —” Why, here is love articulate, vital ! I thought that only poets, not lovers, could so speak. And that poets, poor devils, speaking, could never know. “ So Percy to his Angela’s distress —” Then it is not my Molly that writes this — who is this Percy ? — not me, at all events, for there is no Angela that loves me. (A sound of sobbing in the trees.) Whom have we here ? (Advances.) ’Fore God, the most beautiful woman in the world, except my Molly ! And her scent ! O she is like some intimate tro- pical plant, luring and deadly ! — I am afraid. (He discovers Angela.) Madam, can I aid you ? ANGELA. Leave me ! Leave me ! I am the wretchedest girl on the wide earth. SIR PERCY. The comeliest, mademoiselle. (Aside.) O see this is a woman of the world. To her with speeches fit for such then.