Duke. She looks back at me, now she smiles, Sir.
Vec. Silence.
Duke. I must rise, or I burst. [Exit Constantia.
Vec. Ye see what follows—
Duke. O gentle Sir, this shape agen.
Vec. I cannot.
'Tis all disso[l]v'd again; this was the Figure?
Duke. The very same, Sir.
No hope once more to see it?
Vec. You might have kept it longer, had ye spar'd it,
Now 'tis impossible.
Du. No means to find it?
Vec. Yes, that there is, sit still a while, there's Wine
To thaw the wonder from your hearts; drink well, Sir.