I strive to quench the passion in my breast;
In vain thy blandishments would make me play:
Still I desire far more than I can say.
My knowledge halts, ah, sweet, be piteous,
Instruct me still, while time remains to us,
Be what thou wist, Goddess, moon-maid, _Marquise_,
So that I gather from thy lips heart's ease,
Nay, I implore thee, think thee how time flies!

THE LADY
Hush! I beseech thee, even now night dies.

PIERROT
Night, day, are one to me for thy soft sake.

[_He entreats her with imploring gestures, she hesitates: then puts her
finger on her lip hushing him._]

THE LADY
It is too late, for hark! the birds awake.

PIERROT
The birds awake! It is the voice of day!

THE LADY
Farewell, dear youth! They summon me away.

[_The light changes, it grows daylights and music imitates the twitter of
the birds. They stand gazing at the morning: then Pierrot sinks back upon
his bed, he covers his face in his hands._]