THE LADY
What is this petulance?
PIERROT
'Tis quick to tell—
Thou hast but mocked me.
THE LADY
Nay, I love thee well!
PIERROT
Repeat those words, for still within my breast
A whisper warns me they are said in jest.
THE LADY
I jested not: at daybreak I must go,
Yet loving thee far better than thou know.
PIERROT
Then, by this altar, and this sacred shrine,
Take my sworn troth, and swear thee wholly mine!
The Gods have wedded mortals long ere this.
THE LADY
There was enough betrothal in my kiss.
What need of further oaths?
PIERROT
That bound not thee!
THE LADY
Peace! since I tell thee that it may not be.
But sit beside me whilst I soothe thy bale
With some moon fancy or celestial tale.
PIERROT
Tell me of thee, and that dim, happy place
Where lies thine home, with maidens of thy race!