Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/53

Rh The garlic from my beard? But here 's the cage

That holds our bird. We must ensconce ourselves,

For they'll be here anon; vespers were over

Before we entered.

Thanks to your device

Of the forged key. Yet that was scarcely needed;

I've climbed more break-neck balconies than that

Without a silken ladder! [Looking about.] So—a lute—

A missal—flowers!—more tokens of a maid

Than of a mistress! Well, so much the better;

I long to see the girl. Is she as fair

As Serafino painted?

Faith, my lord,

She's fair enough to justify more sonnets

Than e'er fat Petrarch pumped out for his Laura.

She is a paragon of blushing girlhood,

Full of temptation to the finger-tips.

I marvel at myself, that e'er I yielded

This amorous enterprise, even to you—

But that my loyalty outbears my love.

I will requite your loyalty; fear not;

But where shall we bestow ourselves?

In here;

The old crone showed it me but now there's cover

And peeping-place sufficient. Hark! they come!

Stand close, my lord. [They retire behind the arras. Enter and, R. 2 E.