A Commissioner
Fast bind or freely loose, thy surety, I!
Another
Command me, and the silver moon I’ll bring thee!
Yvette
With what a sudden glory shines the sun!
It gilds the streets, it gilds the running Loire!
And from them both the blood-stains fade away!
Ah, let us rest from death in Nantes to-day,
And think how falls the eve in Bethlehem!—