Shall then the millers son, the businessman or the Prince of Wales be;
Shall then the mouth to be kissed in between or just the diddle be;
Shall then with you beneath this smiling summer night,
Shall thus then be, he?
Would all the words spoken across these blackened boards,
Would all the glances snared silent within shadowed wings,
Would all the sighs and lines between,
Would these mould he?
Beyond pageant and paint,
Beyond entrance and exeunt,
Beyond costume and cavalier,
Of two houses without grudge nor mutiny,
Bathed fair in light, still, yet of music;
Here, let me?