He. Wait, let me wrap my cloak better round you; the wind is cool.
She. Ah, how beautiful to feel how it wraps us both! Do you see how we are here standing between heaven and earth, separated from all the world?
He. I do not see it—I see my lovely world in my arms! I have you, Laura! Laura, tell me, are you happy?
She. Ah, no!
He. How?
She. Ah, I am not happy because I am too happy! I fancy I never can have deserved this happiness. I cannot conceive how it came to my share. Ah, Arvid! to live thus with you, with my mother, my sister, all that I most love—and then to be yours ever, ever!
He. Say eternally, my Laura! Our union belongs as much to heaven as to earth, here as there; to all eternity I am yours, and you are mine!
She. Hush, my Arvid! I hear my mother's voice—she calls me. Let us go to her.
They returned into the room, and presently another couple stepped on the balcony.
He. Cousin Louise, do you like evening air? Cousin Louise, I fancy, is rather romantic. Cousin, do you like the stars? I am a great friend of the stars too; I think on what the poet sings: