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12 matching pages
Page 1 of 11904 · PDF PAGE 57
…Sir Percy ! Sir Percy ! ” You, sir, what makes your honour here ! Sir Percy ? Who then dares to face him ? CARRUTHERS. Let go my bridle, girl, I save a life. MOLLY. You hunt Sir Percy Percivale ! CARRUTHERS. To save him. MOLLY. God save all honest men from knaves like you ! Stay, though, you are his friend ? CARRUTHERS. His guardian. MOLLY. And I his promised wife. CARRUTHERS. Mad girl, be off ! MOLLY. Ay, strike me, coward !
1904 · PDF PAGE 38
24 WHY JESUS WEPT. All is a whirl ; — (Let me recapture This lock ; ’tis unfixed.) Ay, little girl, Bury my head In the scent of your hair ! Would I were dead In your arms ever fair, Buried and folded For aye on your breast : — That were delight, Eternity moulded In form of your kiss ! That were the rest I have sought for, the bliss I have ached to obtain : — Ah ! it was pain ! MOLLY. Ay ! sir, but can you love me ? Me, poor girl ! SIR PERCY. Love you ? Ah, Christ ! I love you so ! Say you love me, love me ! Say so ! Again ! Again ! Aloud ! I m…
1904 · PDF PAGE 51
…. ANGELA. False, fickle wretch ! SIR PERCY. I will ! I will ! ANGELA. No ! No ! SIR PERCY. Yes, I was a fool, an ass, a brute. A village girl ! ANGELA. Blood will have blood, they say. SIR PERCY. You are my equal, Angela ! You shall be mine, mine, mine ! ANGELA. If I will not ?
1904 · PDF PAGE 62
48 WHY JESUS WEPT. SIR PERCY, aside. O that were devilish — she’s a good girl ! ANGELA. I hate her. SIR PERCY. Buy yourself a pretty hat ! Forget my pretty speeches ! Flings his purse down. CARRUTHERS. O Lord Christ ! In one short day — he was a gentleman ! Sir Percival ! Would God I were dead too ! If he had lived — thank God he died ! Sir Percy, Lend me your pistol ; here’s a heart to hit ! Sir Percy descends, after taking farewell of Angela, and appears again on horse- back among his men. SIR PERCY. Arnold and Ritson, tend the wounded man ! …
1904 · PDF PAGE 47
…ar. ANGELA. Pity me ! SIR PERCY. Dear lady, the joy to know, and so perfectly to express such love is enough. ANGELA. You mock me ! That girl — do you in truth love her ? She is most beautiful.
1904 · PDF PAGE 49
…wo ! SIR PERCY. That is young yet. ANGELA. Ah, in your eyes I see sadness—I breathe ; I hope. Think deeply in yourself, if you love this girl ! I am older than you, to be sure ; but not so much. May be you would find my love a better thing than you think ! Do I perspire now ? Do my cheeks run down nasty wet tears ? Is my love a monotonous harping on one word ? Love, Percy — dare I call you Percy ? SIR PERCY. If I may call you Angela.
1904 · PDF PAGE 65
WHY JESUS WEPT 51 MOLLY. O my lord ! I am the most unhappy girl in the world. GLENSTRAE. Tell me about it — there, there, don’t cry ! MOLLY. Twas but yestreen s’ennight. GLENSTRAE. A green wound is easiest cured. MOLLY. My lord, yestreen s’ennight I was wooed and won, and ere the moonrise he deserted me. GLENSTRAE. Dear, dear ! That’s bad, bad, bad. There, there, no doubt we shall be able to do something. MOLLY. My father thinks it is worse — oh, far worse ! I am to go away into service — oh ! oh ! GLENSTRAE. And so you shall, my dear, so you s…
1904 · PDF PAGE 35
… Come to me ! Thee have I sought ! Thou that wast dumb to me, Come — I am nought ! Striving ever to follow her, he faints and falls. The girl stops.
1904 · PDF PAGE 36
…en.) SIR PERCY. Oh ! I am but a coward. I am not ill, I was awake. I let you hold me. Forgive me ! MOLLY. Forgive you, sir ? I am a poor girl of the dale. SIR PERCY. Your voice is like an empress — no, a nightingale. You do not speak like a daleswoman. MOLLY. I was at school, sir, at — SIR PERCY. O but I love you ! There is none above you, Not God ! I renounce Thee, O maker ! Dissolve,
1904 · PDF PAGE 50
… queen I am, that I might have strength to win you — never before has my heart been touched. Now my arts fail me. I am a poor and simple girl ; and my eyes are aching with the sight of you, and my lips are mad to kiss you ! SIR PERCY. Your breath is like a mist of rose-dawn about me.
1904 · PDF PAGE 45
…ant, 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.
1904 · PDF PAGE 30
…andles out ! The maid blows out the mirror candles. I will go down. Prepare my scented paper, My rosy wax against my coming here — When, girl ? I’ th’ morn, i’ th’ morn ! When else ? I’d write. She goes out, with a set smile on her face, yet a gleam of real laughter beneath it.