Must soon succeed. A few short moments more,
And he is with us. E’en from this delay
I augur well. A council held so long
Must be to give us peace. He will be ours.
Perhaps for years our own.
Mat. O mother! thus
My hopes too whisper. Nights enough in tears,
And days in all the sickness of suspense,
Our anxious love hath pass’d. It is full time
That each sad moment, at each rumour’d tale,