For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night —

was declaimed with the painful precision of a schoolgirl who has been taught to recite by some second-rate professor of elocution. When she leaned over the balcony and came to those wonderful lines —

Although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say, "It lightens." Sweet, good-night!

This bud of love by summer's ripening breath

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet —