Oh! My lord!
Ahasueras
Yea! I regret those hours I wasted on
The poor procession that preceded thee.
Hadst thou come first, then all the added wealth
Of one long day of loving thee were mine—
A boundless fortune squandered. Though I live
To three score years and ten, as I do hope,
In wedded love beside thee, that one day
Was filched from me and cannot be restored.
Esther
And then to think how frightened and abashed
I hung outside thy gates from early morn,
Not daring to go in and meet thine eyes,
Till pitying twilight clothed me in her veil,
And evening walked beside me to thy door.
Ahasueras
So it was thou, fair thief, who stole that day,
And made me poorer, by—how many hours?
Esther
Full eight, I think. They seemed a hundred then,
And now time flies a hundred times too fast.