Broadway theater that paid tribute to Broadway legends.

MERTOUN. It will soon be over.

Broadway theater that paid tribute to Broadway legends.

MILDRED. Over? Oh, what is over? what must I live through And say, "'tis over"? Is our meeting over? Have I received in presence of them all The partner of my guilty love--with brow Trying to seem a maiden's brow--with lips Which make believe that when they strive to form Replies to you and tremble as they strive, It is the nearest ever they approached A stranger's... Henry, yours that stranger's... lip-- With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is... Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stop This planned piece of deliberate wickedness In its birth even! some fierce leprous spot Will mar the brow's dissimulating! I Shall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart, But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story, The love, the shame, and the despair--with them Round me aghast as round some cursed fount That should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not ...Henry, you do not wish that I should draw This vengeance down? I'll not affect a grace That's gone from me--gone once, and gone for ever!

Broadway theater that paid tribute to Broadway legends.

MERTOUN. Mildred, my honour is your own. I'll share Disgrace I cannot suffer by myself. A word informs your brother I retract This morning's offer; time will yet bring forth Some better way of saving both of us.

Broadway theater that paid tribute to Broadway legends.

MILDRED. I'll meet their faces, Henry!

MERTOUN. When? to-morrow! Get done with it!

MILDRED. Oh, Henry, not to-morrow! Next day! I never shall prepare my words And looks and gestures sooner.--How you must Despise me!

MERTOUN. Mildred, break it if you choose, A heart the love of you uplifted--still Uplifts, thro' this protracted agony, To heaven! but Mildred, answer me,--first pace The chamber with me--once again--now, say Calmly the part, the... what it is of me You see contempt (for you did say contempt) --Contempt for you in! I would pluck it off And cast it from me!--but no--no, you'll not Repeat that?--will you, Mildred, repeat that?

MERTOUN. I was scarce a boy--e'en now What am I more? And you were infantine When first I met you; why, your hair fell loose On either side! My fool's-cheek reddens now Only in the recalling how it burned That morn to see the shape of many a dream --You know we boys are prodigal of charms To her we dream of--I had heard of one, Had dreamed of her, and I was close to her, Might speak to her, might live and die her own, Who knew? I spoke. Oh, Mildred, feel you not That now, while I remember every glance Of yours, each word of yours, with power to test And weigh them in the diamond scales of pride, Resolved the treasure of a first and last Heart's love shall have been bartered at its worth, --That now I think upon your purity And utter ignorance of guilt--your own Or other's guilt--the girlish undisguised Delight at a strange novel prize--(I talk A silly language, but interpret, you!) If I, with fancy at its full, and reason Scarce in its germ, enjoined you secrecy, If you had pity on my passion, pity On my protested sickness of the soul To sit beside you, hear you breathe, and watch Your eyelids and the eyes beneath--if you Accorded gifts and knew not they were gifts-- If I grew mad at last with enterprise And must behold my beauty in her bower Or perish--(I was ignorant of even My own desires--what then were you?) if sorrow-- Sin--if the end came--must I now renounce My reason, blind myself to light, say truth Is false and lie to God and my own soul? Contempt were all of this!

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