The sullen shades disperse. Away!—e’en now
The land’s high hearts, the fearless and the true,
Shall know they have a leader. Is not this
The mansion of mine own, mine earliest, friend
Sylveira?
Gon. Ay, its glittering lamps too well
Illume the stately vestibule to leave
Our sight a moment’s doubt. He ever loved
Such pageantries.
Seb. His dwelling thus adorn’d