Against my sire now I pray God: I pray
Our men be driven back: yet not too soon.
Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Heaven grant there’s none
To hear but he: and he will never hear me
Calling so fearfully, so faintly.... Alas!
Better to seek him. Since he is not within,
He must be in this garden. He will have sought
Some shelter from the night.—Ah! the arbour ...
there.... [Goes to arbour.
Why, here. Wake, Ferdinand, wake! Come, ’tis I,