Look on yourself in me.
What harm in gazing? You are this flower
You are that spirit. But the spirit fed
With substance of the flower takes all its bloom!
And where in spirits is the bloom of the flower?
ASTRAEA:
'Tis very singular. You have a tone
Quite changed.
ARDEN:
You wished a change. To show you, how
I read you . . .
ASTRAEA:
Oh! no, no. It means dissection.
I never heard of reading character
That did not mean dissection. Spare me that.
I am wilful, violent, capricious, weak,
Wound in a web of my own spinning-wheel,
A star-gazer, a riband in the wind . . .
ARDEN:
A banner in the wind! and me you lead,
And shall! At least, I follow till I win.
ASTRAEA:
Forbear, I do beseech you.
ARDEN:
I have had
Your hand in mine.
ASTRAEA:
Once.
ARDEN:
Once!
Once! 'twas; once, was the heart alive,
Leaping to break the ice.
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