Meg. What an intelligent creature! Madam, your sentiments do you credit. I beg leave to lay at your feet the assurance of my entire devotion.
Mel. Oh, my lord, you are too good! Why, what a dear, condescending creature!—the manners of a Grand Chamberlain and the features of an Apollo!
Meg. Permit me to enrol myself among the ranks of your humble slaves and admirers (kneels and kisses her hand). But hark! the music, and I must marshal the guests to the banquet. Permit me to marshal you.
[Exeunt with measured steps.
[Scene IV.]—The garden without the banqueting-room. Moonlight. The sea in the distance, with the harbour.
Asander and Gycia descend the steps of the palace slowly together. Music heard from within the hall.
Asan. Come, Gycia, let us take the soft sweet air
Beneath the star of love. The festive lights
Still burn within the hall, where late we twain