'My love, beyond all women.'
'I am? That's much. Now will we do without the Duchess.'
'Alas!'
'Shall we not?'
'She hath so nursed my flock to pasture—the kind ewe-mother. The bell was about her neck. Now, it seems, she will have neither bell nor shepherd, and the flock must stray.'
'Hath she in truth cast thee? On what pretext?'
'Nay, I know not. It seemed the twin-brother of him that once she used for loving me.'
'Ay, it is their way. But scorn, for your part, to show caloric as she cools.'
'Alas!'
'Trust me there. What had you said to chill her?'