PIERROT
I cover it with mine.
THE LADY
What must I next?
[They play.]
PIERROT
Withdraw.
THE LADY
It goes too fast.
[They continue playing, until Pierrot catches her hand.]
PIERROT [Laughing.]
'Tis done. I win my forfeit at the last.
[He tries to embrace her. She escapes; he chases her round the stage; she eludes him.]
THE LADY
Thou art not quick enough. Who hopes to catch
A moon-beam, must use twice as much despatch.
PIERROT [Sitting down sulkily.]
I grow aweary, and my heart is sore,
Thou dost not love me; I will play no more.
[He buries his face in his hands: the lady stands over him.]