That from thy vaulted, wiry dungeon singest,
Like thee I am a captive. In my cage
Imprisoned, bound with silken bands I stay,
And my heart sings in its captivity.
Would’st thou away? Is a grass-woven nest,
That swings among green boughs, a better home?
My cradle swung under the swinging forest,
As well as thine. We will go back together.
Dolores!
(Turning to lay her work down, perceives the Count.)