Adri. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Sebas. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Anto. Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
Gonza. Here is everything advantageous to life.
Anto. True; save means to live.
Sebas. Of that there’s none, or little.
Gonza. How lush[396-11] and lusty the grass looks! how green!
Anto. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Sebas. With an eye[396-12] of green in’t.
Anto. He misses not much.