One day, 'twill quickly pass away!
Pyg.
With those who measure time, by almanacs, no doubt,
But not with him who knows no days save those
Born of the sunlight of Cynisca's eyes;
It will be night with me till she returns.
Cyn.
Then sleep it through, Pygmalion! But stay,
Thou shalt not pass the weary hours alone;
Now mark thou this—while I'm away from thee,