Now not long
Shall we sustain or sink aswoon from it:
It has but left a day or two to die.
ALBOVINE.
And well were that, if summer died with June.
Two red months more must set on sense and soul
The branding-iron stamped of summer: nay,
The sea is here no sea to cherish man:
It brings no choral comfort back with tides
That surge and sink and swell and chime and change
And lighten life with music where the breath
Dies and revives of night and day.
ROSAMUND.
Be thou
Content: a God hath driven us hither.
ALBOVINE.
Yea:
A God of death and fire and strife, whose hand
Is heavy on my spirit. Be not ye
Troubled, if peace be with you.
ROSAMUND.
Peace to thee.
[Exit Albovine.