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Rh

You are right, my dear Lady Shrewdly: you understand me. O! did ever creature feel it so sensibly as I do! The very word genius sometimes makes me weep. (Putting her handkerchief to her eyes affectedly.)

Well, my dear wife! it is very affecting; it almost brings tears into my own eyes. (Running from one person to another.) Is it not so?—Is it not very affecting?—Could almost cry myself.—Don't you feel it?—But come, my dear love! you delay the ceremony.

It shall be delayed no longer.—Happy moment! sublime point of time! (Taking a wreath from the basket.) Thus, by an unworthy hand, is crowned the bust of personified Eloquence.

Unveil that bust, fair lady: nothing but the hand of beauty, I suppose, must take part in such ministry.