_"Dens and caves!"_ he roared, answering an imaginary detractor. "Well, never mind, love shall make that hole in the rock a palace for a queen; for _a_ queen? For _the_ queen." Here he suddenly changed characters and fancied he was interpreting the discourse of another. "He means the Queen of the Fairies," said he, patronizingly. Then, resuming his own character with loud defiance, "I say her chamber shall outshine the glories of the Alhambra, as far as the lilies outshone the artificial glories of King Solomon. Oh, mighty Nature, let others rely on the painter, the gold-beater, the carver of marble, come you and help me adorn the temple of my beloved. Amen." (The poor soul thought, by the sound of his own words, it must be a prayer he uttered.) And now Helen, with streaming eyes, tried to put in a word, but he stopped her with a wild Hush! and went off into a series of mysterious whisperings. "Make no noise, please, or we shall frighten her. There--that is her window--no noise, please! I've watched and waited four hours, just to see her sweet, darling shadow on the blinds, and shall I lose it for your small talk? all paradoxes and platitudes! excuse my plain speaking--Hush! here it comes--her shadow--hush!--how my heart beats. It is gone. So now" (speaking out), "good-night, base world! Do you hear? you company of liars, thieves and traitors, called the world, go and sleep if you can. I _shall_ sleep, because my conscience is clear. _False accusations!_ Who can help them? They are the act of others. Read of Job, and Paul, and Joan of Arc. No, no, no, no; I didn't say read 'em _out_ with those stentorian lungs. I must be allowed a _little_ sleep, a man that wastes the midnight oil, yet brushes the early dew. Good-night."