Yes,
I do revere 'Wallenstein' more than any thing Shakespeare ever
spouted"--in answer to my gently-shaking head--"I should break down over
_Thekla_, I should, indeed."
"Do you think his bed was soft under the war-horses?"--and she waved her
hand--"O God! what a tragedy; what a love!" and she covered her face
with her quivering palm.
"Bertie, you are still too excitable. I am sorry to see it."
"Philosopher, cure thyself."
"Yes, I know that was always a fault of mine."
"That is why you married the man in the iron mask, you know. I could
never have loved that person."
"Describe the man you think you could have loved, Bertie La Vigne."
"Could have loved? That time is past forever, child. 'Frozen, and dead
forever,' as Shelley says. _He_ was my affinity, I believe, only he died
before I was born. What a pity! I would rather be his widow than the
wife of any man living."
"_She_ would like to hear that, no doubt, Bertie."
"Well, she may hear it if she chooses when I go to England to read the
old Parrot in the right way, under their very noses, Kembles and all.
I'll let Mrs. Shelley know I'm there," and she laughed merrily.
"And what is your idea of the way to read Shakespeare, Bertie dear?" I
asked, playfully.
"As one having authority, a head and shoulders above him and all his
prating, just as you would talk to your every-day next neighbor, read
him without any fear of his old deer-stealing ghost? Why, Miriam, he
knew himself better than we knew him.
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