SCENE—@3On Manhattan Island. Time@1—@3To-day. Hour@1—@3Ten-thirty. Persons of the play:@1 SIBYL. @3A dream of beauty, half awake, In filmy disarray@1—@3about to take Her morning tub. In speech with her the while Is@1 ROBERT. @3He is dressed in riding style.@1 SIBYL—Why, Bob, it's @3you!@1 They got your name all wrong. I'm sorry that I made you wait so long. BOB— Only six minutes by my watch—it's true A minute seems a year, awaiting you! But Time is merciful and I rejoice That I am still alive to hear your voice. SIBYL—A very pretty speech, for you, indeed. But what extenuation can you plead For waking ladies at the break of day From peaceful slumbers, sir! BOB— Oh, come, I say! It's half-past ten! SIBYL— Well, it was nearly three Before I got to bed! BOB— Good gracious me! I'm sure I'd no idea it was so late. Why, I was riding in the Park at eight And looked for you. I own I felt abused; Last night you said—— SIBYL— I beg to be excused From keeping foolish promises, when made At two A. M., by moonlight. I'm afraid My memory's no better than a sieve. So you expected me? The Lord forgive Your trusting soul! BOB— It is His @3metier!@1 SIBYL—Don't be outrageous, or I'll run away. BOB— Ah, no; don't go. I will be good, I swear! 'Twas a quotation, Heine, or Voltaire, Or some fool cynic fellow. By the way, If you have nothing on, what do you say To breakfasting with Peg and me at noon At the Casino? SIBYL— Well, that's rather soon; I can't be ready for an hour or more. BOB— Come as you are, you know that I adore Your ladyship in any sort of gown; Besides, there's not another soul in town. Come as you are; there'll only be we three. SIBYL—Well, I like that! It's fortunate for me This is a telephone, and not that new Invention one can talk and @3see@1 through, too! What's that you said? BOB— I didn't speak at all I only @3thought.@1 SIBYL— Well, @3don't!@1 Suppose we call The breakfast half-past one instead of noon? BOB (@3joyously@1)— Then you will come? SIBYL— I swear! BOB— Not by the moon? SIBYL (@3laughing@1)— No, you may count on me. Now I must fly. One-thirty—don't forget—Good by! BOB— Good by! (@3They ring off.@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY DAYS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT AMY'S CRUELTY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING NIGHT AND THE MERRY MAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING FIFINE AT THE FAIR by ROBERT BROWNING MUSINGS by MICHAEL J. CAMPIONE WHICH LOVED HER BEST? by MARY A. CRAGIN |