Soto. We have leave to play, and are going to climb Birds nests.
Sil. Prethee what is it friend? why start ye from me?
Is your old Mistriss grown so coy and cruel,
She must be scal'd? it seems you are loath to tell me,
Since twenty years continuance of our friendship
May not be worth the weight of such a secret,
'Twill be but rude to aske again: save ye.
Cla. Nay stay, dear Silvio, if you love me take it:
For till you know it, never woman labour'd
As I do now.
Sil. I'll doe my best to ease it.
Cla. You have heard the Lady Belvidere—
Sil. What heard Sir?
Cla. Heard to the Cittadel, upon some fears
She is confin'd.
Sil. Why dreams he on this beauty?
'Tis true, I have heard it.
Cla. And that no access,
No blessing from those eyes, but with much hazard,
Even hazard of a life.
Sil. He dares not love her;
I have heard that too: but whither points your purpose?