Duch.        You jest.

Val. The lady is above me and away.

Not only the brave form, and the bright mind,

And the great heart combine to press me low—

But all the world calls rank divides us.

Duch.         Rank!

Now grant me patience! Here’s a man declares

Oracularly in another’s case—

Sees the true value and the false, for them—

Nay, bids them see it, and they straight do see.