Where is thy palace and thine opal throne;
There on thy bosom--

THE LADY
Too ambitious boy!
I did but promise thee one hour of joy.
This tour thou plannest, with a heart so light,
Could hardly be completed in a night.
Hast thou no craving less remote than this?

PIERROT
Would it be impudent to beg a kiss?

THE LADY
I say not that: yet prithee have a care!
Often audacity has proved a snare.
How wan and pale do moon-kissed roses grow--
Dost thou not fear my kisses, Pierrot?

PIERROT
As one who faints upon the Libyan plain
Fears the oasis which brings life again!

THE LADY
Where far away green palm trees seem to stand
May be a mirage of the wreathing sand.

PIERROT
Nay, dear enchantress, I consider naught,
Save mine own ignorance, which would be taught.