[Takes up a lock and kisses it]
What waste of sun and gold!
Ara. Nay, when you're safe,
I'll cast it to fair Venus on the sea,
A votive offering. Look now! 'Tis done.
Aris. So soon?
Ara. And you must go.
Aris. Art sure 'tis done?
Ara. Afraid, my lord?
Aris. Afraid!