I scarce remember how—but—
Voices within. Room for Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy!
Enter Astolfo.
Astolfo. Welcome, thrice welcome, the auspicious day,
When from the mountain where he darkling lay,
The Polish sun into the firmament
Sprung all the brighter for his late ascent,
And in meridian glory—
Seg. Where is he?
Why must I ask this twice?—