It does, and I feel sure
My lover must be waiting. Will you come with me?
Poet.
No, thanks. I shall remain and think of what has died.
Marquise.
May you have the protection of my defunct illusion.
[She goes out.]
[Curtain.]
It does, and I feel sure
My lover must be waiting. Will you come with me?
Poet.
No, thanks. I shall remain and think of what has died.
Marquise.
May you have the protection of my defunct illusion.
[She goes out.]
[Curtain.]