little
girl's cheek! Just a year! That is the first step--a cruel
one--but we shall be happy when it is over. Just a year,
sweetheart! I must take no chances now! I _must_ win!

Vir. You shall not leave me! A year will not hurt me, Edgar!
But it would kill me to be left here ... and not know ...
every minute....

Poe. Do you care so much, Lenore? Then we will both stay here.
It will take longer, but I will work harder--

Vir. Enough for to-night. We are too happy for to-morrows,
Edgar. Now you must have a long, long sleep--

Poe. No, no! No bed for me to-night! I must work!

Vir. No bed, indeed! I did not say bed, my lord! You are going
to sit down here (Places him on footstool) and I shall sit
here, (settles in chair) and your head in my lap--my hands
on your head--and the crooningest of little songs will
bring you the sweetest snatch of sleep that you ever, ever
had!

Poe. O, 'tis heaven, Virginia! But you are too tired, my angel.
_You_ must sleep.

Vir. And so I shall when my lord shows me the way.

(Poe drops his head on her lap. She turns down light. He
falls asleep as she sings softly)

Like a fallen star on the breast of the sea
My lover rests on the heart of me;
The lord of the tempest hies him down
From his billow-crest to his cavern-throne,
And 'tis peace as wide as the eye can see
When my lover rests on the heart of me.

(Silence. Virginia droops in sleep. No light but dull red
coals.)

(CURTAIN)

ACT IV.

Scene I: An old bookstore, New York. Bookseller arranging books.
Helen at one side looking over shelves. Poe enters. He wears a
military cloak and jaunty cap. Throws book on table and whistles
carelessly.

Bookseller. (Looking book over doubtfully)
Forty cents.

Poe. (Loudly) Forty devils! (Helen turns and recognizes him. He
does not see her) Look at that binding. You can't get a
Shelley put up like that for less than ten dollars.

Hel. (Aside) My book!

Bookseller.
It's badly marked.

Poe. Marked! Of course it's marked. And every mark there worth
its dollar. In ten years you'll wish the marks were