barge, men who, standing idle in the streets of Florence, have seen the
love-light start in the great Dante's eyes, seen his hand move to his
laden heart, as the little Beatrice passed him by among her maidens.
Base men of the past, by the indulgent accident of time, have been
granted to behold these wonders, and now for you, O men of Verona, a
like wonder has been born.

* * * * *

Romeo and Juliet lay receiving their guests in the vault of the
Capulets, with a strange smile of welcome for all who came.

It had been an innocent little desire, yet had all the world come
against it. It had been a simple little desire, yet too strong for all
the world to break.

Strange this enmity of the world to love, as though men should take arms
against the song of a bird, or plot against the opening of a flower.

But now, what was this strange homage to a love that a few hours ago had
no friend in all the daylight, a fearful bliss beneath the secret moon?
But yesterday a stupid old nurse, a herb-gathering friar, a rascally
apothecary, had been their only friends, and now was all the world come
here to do their bidding.

No need to steal again beneath the shade of orchard walls, no need again
to heed if lark or nightingale sang in the reddening east. For the world
had grown all warm to love, warm and kind as June to the rose.

* * * * *