Ah, the balm, the balm,
And ah, the blessing
Of the deep fall of night
And of confessing.
Of the sick soul made white
Of all distressing:
Made white!...
Ah, balm of night
And, ah the blessing!
[The music falls and all seem yielding to sleep. Suddenly there are hoof-beats and sounds at the gates below. Halil springs up.
Halil. Alessa! Maga! Voices at the gates!
[All start up.
Some one is come.
Halil. Up, up!
Perhaps lord Renier—No: I will learn.
[He runs to curtains and looks.
It is Olympio! Olympio!
From Famagouste and lord Amaury!