Of lilies and daisies on her brow!
Evaïd.Ah me, alas!
Melfort. Evaïd.Ah me, alas!She looks at me—
And O the swooning light of her eyes!
If you will die thus beautifully,
Die thus for ever!
Evaïd. Die thus for ever!O the pain!
Melfort.Am I a fool, a senseless stock,
To haver thus the while she dies!
Come, I will hide you in my coat,