I want you with me for a thousand sakes
To which that is as nothing--I myself
More apt to let the secret out myself
Without your help at all--Come, come, cheer up!
And if you sing again, 'Come weal, come woe,'
Let it be that; for we will never part
Until you give the signal.

FIFE.
'Tis a bargain.

ROS.
Now to begin, then. 'Follow, follow me,
'You fairy elves that be.'

FIFE.
Ay, and go on--
Something of 'following darkness like a dream,'
For that we're after.

ROS.
No, after the sun;
Trying to catch hold of his glittering skirts
That hang upon the mountain as he goes.

FIFE.
Ah, he's himself past catching--as you spoke
He heard what you were saying, and--just so--
Like some scared water-bird,
As we say in my country, _dove_ below.