"Why should this happy hour end so soon ?" "It must end here, Donatello," said she, in answer to his words and outstretched hand; "and such hours, I believe, do not often repeat themselves in a lifetime.

Let me go, my friend; let me vanish from you quietly among the shadows of these trees.

See, the companions of our pastime are vanishing already!" Whether it was that the harp-strings were broken, the violin out of tune, or the flautist out of breath, so it chanced that the music had ceased, and the dancers come abruptly to a pause.

All that motley throng of rioters was dissolved as suddenly as it had been drawn together.

In Miriam's remembrance the scene had a character of fantasy.