Nay, then, I think you are beside yourself. Be moderate, sir.--You uttered only words; And words are breath; and then, a lover's breath! Hot, gasping, poisonous air! Edmund. O no, my May! Love's breath is hot and healthy as the breeze That floats the summer from the sunny south, With merry crews of nightingales and swallows, As sweet and swift as are the words of love. May. O words and songs and sounds are merely stones, When love is as an empty hungry gulf. Edmund. Ay, but when love is certain of a feast, Then words and songs and sounds are spicy whets. May. Yes, yes; dear love, dear love. Speak on, speak on. Edmund. Say after me what I will say to you, The words that are the sweetest in the world, And are an act when all a soul is in them. You are the cause that makes me whisper them, And, being said, from you claim like effect. If what I say be of such worth to you, As, said by you, 'twill hold in my esteem, Then this will be a changing gold for gold: I love you. May. I love you. Edmund. The only words Worth learning, speaking, writing, singing, graving. The middle word, the linking word, the 'love' Is like eternal space; and 'I' and 'you' Mark out a sky and earth, and gather in Time, heaven, and hell. May. O, happiness alone! We hedge about an Eden, I and you. Edmund. Eden, indeed! Adam I envy not His grand originality; for when I say to you, 'Sweet May Montgomery, I love you,' I speak words I seem to make. As sweet and strange they are as when first said By Adam when he first beheld his Eve. I feel within, about me, and above The freshness of creation. Everything Is new, and every word a white-hot poem: I am a poet, too, as great as Adam; To speak, as in his time, is to invent. 'I,' 'you'--O, these are words new-forged and bright! And herein am I happier than he-- I love, not Eve, but May Montgomery. May. O me! I would that I could find my love! You are in love, too, for your speech betrays you. Pray, tell me of your love; I told you mine. Edmund. Not now; the hour is past. Come; we must run. How they will mock us! May. We've been happy, though. [They go out, running. ACT V SCENE. The Alley of Sighs. A table set out. Enter Clown and Bellona. Clown. O Amazon, victorious and proud, More dread than is your bow your eyebrows are, Upbending to discharge darts keener far Than fill your quiver or the thunder-cloud. You jest at me, you mock my heartfelt love; You put me off and on even as a glove. O gentle, noble, bitter amazon, I would that you could see into my heart! Bellona. I've seen; it is an empty nut, good clown. Clown. Thenceforward I will play a silent part. Enter Mary-Jane.