We two shall walk the clouds too happy e'en
To love. Give me that hope, and dying now
I live. Deny it, and 'tis you, not swords,
That wound. They slay poor flesh, that gauzy breath
Sole guards from wormy ravage. You would strike
My never-healing soul! Those steps of doom——
Ara. Hark! Ah—they pass! Dear gods, is there no way?
Aris. The window.
Ara. No!
Aris. I'll make the leap and live