PIERROT
A most sweet pastime—scandal is its name.
THE LADY
Enough, it wearies me.
PIERROT
Then, rare Marquise,
Desert the crowd to wander through the trees.
[He bows low, and she curtsies; they move round the stage. When they pass before the Statue he seizes her hand and falls on his knee.]
THE LADY
What wouldst thou now?
PIERROT
Ah, prithee, what, save thee!
THE LADY
Was this included in thy comedy?
PIERROT
Ah, mock me not! In vain with quirk and jest
I strive to quench the passion in my breast;
In vain thy blandishments would make me play:
Still I desire far more than I can say.
My knowledge halts, ah, sweet, be piteous,
Instruct me still, while time remains to us,
Be what thou wist, Goddess, moon-maid, Marquise,
So that I gather from thy lips heart's ease,
Nay, I implore thee, think thee how time flies!
THE LADY
Hush! I beseech thee, even now night dies.
PIERROT
Night, day, are one to me for thy soft sake.