(continues.)
"Miss Darcy, perchance,
Will forego one brief page from the summer romance
Of her courtship." . . .
Egad! a romance, for my part,
I'd forego every page of, and not break my heart!

ALFRED.

Continue.

JOHN (reading).

"And spare you one day from your place
At her feet." . . .
Pray forgive me the passing grimace.
I wish you had MY place!
(reads)
"I trust you will feel
I desire nothing much. Your friend," . . .
Bless me! "Lucile?"
The Countess de Nevers?

ALFRED.

Yes.

JOHN.

What will you do?