Ara. 'Twould change the world that lost thee.
Then would this isle uncrown herself of joy,
And palsying shake beauty from her lap.
The flowers would die in pain, and every leaf
Fast wither, fade and fall, as those that moan
O'er Thracian Phyllis' grave. I will not stay
Without my friend. Ah no, 'twould not be life.
Aris. The longest days are breaths, quick-drawn and short,
The longest life a day to be forgot.
Thou soon wouldst come.