Has left me numb. You know how dear my purpose
That she should wed a lord of my own faction.
Give me an hour, but one, before you speak.
You break the bough that held my care-built nest,
And old wings go not blithely after straw.
Nau. They've learned to wait, and who would count an hour
Before the long day of unbroken love?
... I'm weary now, Phillistus.
Phil. Rest thee, sweet. [She sleeps]