Emmeline: But are you mine? Is there an end of war?
Are all those trumpets dead themselves, at last,
That used to kill men with their thundering sounds?

Arthur: The sum of war is undecided yet;
And many a breathing body must be cold,
Ere you are free.

Emmeline: How came you hither then?

Arthur: By Merlin's art, to snatch a short-lived bliss;
To feed my famished love upon your eyes
One moment, and depart.

Dryden's King Arthur, Act III, Scene II