"Two years! two years! was that the end of my triumph? Magas! a mad woman! What has Magas been doing?"
"He will tell you that best himself; he will be here shortly."
"Two years! two long years! O Magas!"
......
"They met! But is this Magas? is this Chione? The long, lank hair, eyes almost starting from their sockets; and that form, so shrunken, so bereft of its former beauty, can this be the Venus Urania? And Apollo! will you recognize him in that weather-beaten form, coarsely clad, and mien so humble, though an intellectual manliness still sat upon the brow?
"Is this Magas? the same, and yet so changed? Magas, speak to me."
"You are then recovering at last, Chione?"
"At last! yes! I knew not of my illness till I recovered. Strange thing, this mind is, Magas! I lived on you: you were absent—I died; your voice brought me back to life."
"Nay, you were ill before I left you, Chione. It was a higher voice speaking to you, to which you turned a deaf ear, that caused your illness."