Mar. No sure:
There is no house of mark that we have scaped yet.

Ant. What place is this?

Mar. Speak softer: 'may be spies;
If any, this, a goodly window too,
Carv'd far above, that I perceive: 'tis dark,
But she has such a lustre.

Enter Ismena and Aminta above with a Taper.

Ant. Yes Martine,
So radiant she appears.

Mar. Else we may miss, Sir:
The night grows vengeance black, pray heaven she shine clear:
Hark, hark, a window, and a candle too.

Ant. Step close, 'tis she: I see the cloud disperse,
And now the beauteous Planet.

Mar. Ha, 'tis indeed,
Now by the soul of love a Divine Creature.

Ism. Sir, Sir.

Ant. Most blessed Lady.