Evander said his line a little stiffly; he was awkward, being a man.
"'Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?'"
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, Nor arm nor face. O be some other name Belonging to a man. What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes, Without that title.--Romeo, doff thy name; And for thy name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.'"
Evander put heart now into his part as he moved towards her.
"'I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.'"
Brilliana affected to peer into the darkness of a green garden.
"'What man art thou, that thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel?'"
"'By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee: Had I it written, I would tear the word.'"
Brilliana's voice faltered as she took up the tale.
"'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?'"
Evander was quite near now to the chair and the fair maid perched upon it, and the words trembled on his lips.
"'Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.'"
He put out his hands and caught hers for a moment. Then she drew them free and jumped down. She went to the open space and looked into the wet garden with a hand to her head and a hand to her heart. Evander followed her.
"Ah, me," she said, "love was a heady god in Verona. Here in England he could not solder such hostilities."
"Here in England love is a more glorious god yet, for he can fling a Puritan soldier at the feet of a Cavalier lady."
Brilliana still stared straight before her.
"We have drifted from the land of shadows."
"We have drifted into reality. I love you. I cannot change my faith for that, I cannot change my flag. But believe this, remember this, that in the Parliament's army one Puritan is as true your lover as all the Cavaliers who worship you."
Brilliana turned and looked at him now, very steadfastly: