erchance--

_Lal_. Why dost thou pause, Politian?

_Pol_. And then perchance
_Arise_ together, Lalage, and roam
The starry and quiet dwellings of the blest,
And still--

_Lal_. Why dost thou pause, Politian?

_Pol_. And still _together_--_together_.

_Lal_. Now, Earl of Leicester!
Thou _lovest_ me, and in my heart of hearts
I feel thou lovest me truly.

_Pol_. O Lalage!
(_throwing himself upon his knee_.)
And lovest thou _me_?

_Lal_. Hist! hush! within the gloom
Of yonder trees methought a figure passed--
A spectral figure, solemn, and slow, and noiseless--
Like the grim shadow Conscience, solemn and noiseless.
(_walks across and returns_.)
I was mistaken--'twas but a giant bough
Stirred by the autumn wind. Politian!

_Pol_. My Lalage--my love! why art thou moved?
Why dost thou turn so pale? Not Conscience self,
Far less a shadow which thou likenest to it,
Should shake the firm spirit thus. But the night wind
Is chilly--and these melancholy boughs
Throw over all things a gloom.

_Lal_. Politian!
Thou speakest to me of love. Knowest thou the land
With which all tongues are busy--a land new found--
Miraculously found by one of Genoa--
A thousand leagues within the golden west?
A fairy land of flowers, and fruit, and sunshine,--
And crystal lakes, and over-arching forests,
And mountains, around whose towering summits the winds
Of Heaven untrammelled flow--which air to breathe
Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter
In days that are to come?

_Pol_. Oh, wilt thou--wilt thou
Fly to that Paradise--my Lalage, wilt thou
Fly thither with me? There Care shall be forgotten,
And Sorrow shall be no more, and Eros be all.
And life shall then be mine, for I will live
For thee, and in thine eyes--and thou shalt be