CORDENIUS.
It is that gentle creature, my sweet Portia.
I call her mine, because she is the image
Which hath possess'd my fancy. Such vain thoughts
Must now give place. I will not linger here.
This is the garden of Sulpicius;
How have I miss'd my path? She sings again.
[Sings without, as before.
She wanders fitfully from lay to lay,
But all of them some air that I have prais'd
In happy hours gone by.
SONG.
The kind heart speaks with words so kindly sweet,
That kindred hearts the catching tones repeat;
And love, therewith, his soft sigh gently blending,
Makes pleasing harmony. Thus softly sending
Its passing cheer across the stilly main,
Whilst in the sounding water dips the oar
And glad response bursts from the nearing shore,
Comes to our ears the home-bound seamen's strain,
Who from the lofty deck hail their own land again.
CORDENIUS.
Whate'er my heart could prize of treasured love!
Dear as thou art, I will not linger here.
