Marlowe (wiersz klasyka)

Peabody Josephine Preston

BAME: Thou hast my meaning. When I spoke of this,
She gave me such a smile as I dare vow
Thou never hadst, and promised me to come;
Begged me to bring her to see Benet here,
That same 'old hostess that was kind to her.'
I go to meet her at the waterside,
Since this is all of London she would see!--
'T is Marlowe--Marlowe--and thou knowest well
The maid is pining for him. Ay, by heaven,
Waiting to catch a grain of news, as pigeons
Flutter and flock to peck a lentil up.
She treasures every word that folk let fall
About these players,--covering her ears
To words that mar as true word only can;
Denying all with shudders; and sometimes,--
The music that he taught her--
The man made merry for an hour with charming her,
A hunter, weary of his fowling-piece
Until to-morrow! But the charm has worked.
She dare not breathe till he shall come and say
Breathe so, or so. She lives not in to-day.
I tell you more. He shall not have the girl
Though I'm on my way to bring her to the Gardens
Yonder, 'to see the shows.'

przysłano: 5 marca 2010

Peabody Josephine Preston

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