Anah. Our father sleeps: it is the hour when they

Who love us are accustomed to descend

Through the deep clouds o'er rocky Ararat:—

How my heart beats!

Aho.‍Let us proceed upon

Our invocation.

Anah.‍But the stars are hidden.

I tremble.

Aho.‍So do I, but not with fear

Of aught save their delay.