Impalpable bound is that, th’ unseen, which severs
Being from death! And who can tell how near
Its misty brink he stands?
1st Noble (aside.) What mean her words?
2d Noble. There’s some dark mystery here.
Eri. No more of this!
Pour the bright juice, which Etna’s glowing vines
Yield to the conquerors! And let music’s voice
Dispel these ominous dreams!—Wake, harp and song!
Swell out your triumph!