Did you not bid me look upon the earth?
And what is he but just a bit of it?
Theodora.
I said the earth whereon you tread, my niece.
Belisa.
But that whereon I tread is hidden quite
With my own petticoat and walking-dress.
Theodora.
Words such as these become no well-bred maid.
But, by your mother’s blessed memory,