Arn. Heaven speed the journey.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
Scene I.
Warwick and Arlington.
War. How swift a courier is this winged love!
Why I have made this journey in less time,
Impelled by thought of her, than ere before,
Though martial glory spurred me on the way,
And every proud ambitious hope to boot.
Arl. Our jaded horses prove that truth.
War. And yet
They sped not swift enough for my fond wishes.
Say, hast thou ever marked the moon's full beams
Upon the wave, when broken by the breeze?
Such is the image of my heart: joy's rays
Illume its depths and sparkle on its surface;
But all within is restless—bright confusion.
Arl. Well may she wake such love, such fond impatience;
Not breath of closing flowers, not eve's soft beam—