Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/122

Rh Upon whose finger, exquisitely pricked By a hundred needles, we’re to hang the tie ’Twixt class and class in England,—thus, indeed, By such a presence, yours and mine, to lift The match up from the doubtful place. At once He thanked me, sighing,. . murmured to himself, ‘She’ll do it perhaps; she’s noble,’—thanked me twice, And promised, as my guerdon, to put off His marriage for a month.’ I answered then. ‘I understand your drift imperfectly. You wish to lead me to my cousin’s betrothed, To touch her hand if worthy, and hold her hand If feeble, thus to justify his match. So be it then. But how this serves your ends, And how the strange confession of your love Serves this, I have to learn—I cannot see.’

She knit her restless forehead. ‘Then, despite, Aurora, that most radiant morning name, You’re dull as any London afternoon. I wanted time,—and gained it,—wanted you, And gain you! You will come and see the girl, In whose most prodigal eyes, the lineal pearl And pride of all your lofty race of Leighs Is destined to solution. Authorised By sight and knowledge, then, you’ll speak your mind, And prove to Romney, in your brilliant way, He’ll wrong the people and posterity (Say such a thing is bad for you and me,