When yesternight I flew into your arms,
And melted in your warm embrace.
Amph. How's this?
Alcm. Did not my soul even sparkle at my eyes,
And shoot itself into your much-loved bosom?
Did I not tremble with excess of joy?
Nay agonize with pleasure at your sight,
With such inimitable proofs of passion,
As no false love could feign?
Amph. What's this you tell me?