Chrysanthus. 
These sad tears He will forgive. 
Ne’er to see thee more! thus driven. . .

Daria. 
Cease, my heart like thine is riven,
But again we ’ll see each other,
When in heaven we ’ll be, my brother,
The two lover saints of Heaven. (They are led out.

Scene ii.—­The hall of a bordel.

Soldiers conducting Daria.

A soldier. 
Here Polemius bade us leave her,
The great senator of Rome.[14] (exeunt.)

Daria. 
As the noonday might be left
In the midnight’s dusky robe,
As the light amid the darkness,
As ’mid clouds the solar globe: 
But although the shades and shadows,
Through the vapours of Heaven’s dome. 
Strive with villainous presumption
Light and splendour to enfold,
Though they may conceal the lustre,
Still they cannot stain it, no. 
And it is a consolation
This to know, that even the gold,
How so many be its carats,
How so rich may be the lode,
Is not certain of its value
’Till the crucible hath told. 
Ah! from one extreme to another
Does my strange existence go: 
Yesterday in highest honour,
And to-day so poor and low! 
Still, if I am self-reliant,
Need I fear an alien foe? 
But, ah me, how insufficient
Is my self-defence alone!—­
O new God to whom I offer
Life and soul, whom I adore,
In Thy confidence I rest me. 
Help me, Lord, I ask no more.

(Enter Escarpin.)

Escarpin. 
Where I wonder can she be? 
But I need not farther go,
Here she is:—­At length, Daria,
My good lady, and soforth,
Now has come the happy moment,
When in open market sold,
All thy charms are for the buyer,
Who can spend a little gold;
And since happily love’s tariff
Is not an excessive toll,
Here I am, and so, Daria,
Let these clasping arms enfold . . .

Daria. 
Do not Thou desert Thy handmaid
In this dreadful hour, O Lord!—­

Cries of people within.

A voice (within). 
Oh, the lion! oh, the lion!

Another voice (within). 
Ho! take care of the lion, ho!

Escarpin. 
Let the lion care himself,
I ’m engaged and cannot go.

A voice (within). 
From the mountain wilds descending,
Through the crowded streets he goes.

Another voice (within). 
Like the lightning’s flash he flieth,
Like the thunder is his roar.

Escarpin. 
Ah! all right, for I ’m in safety,
Thanks to this obliging door: 
Lightning is a thing intended
For high towers and stately domes,
Never heard I of its falling
Upon little lowly homes: 
So if lion be the lightning,
Somewhere else will fall the bolt: 
Therefore once again, Daria,
Come, I say, embrace me. . . . . 
(A lion enters, places himself before Daria, and seizes Escarpin.)