He: Not yet, lady, not yet—witness these ass's ears.
She: True, thou 'rt very Fool!
He: In very truth, lady, and thou art lost with this same Fool, so art thou in very woeful case. As for me, a lost fool is no matter, wherefore Fool for himself grieveth no whit. But for thee—alas! Thou art a proud lady of high degree, very nice of thy dainty person, soft and delicate of body, so shall the greensward prove for thee uneasy couch, I judge, and thou sleep ill—
She: Sleep? No thought have I of sleep! Ride on, therefore. Why tarry we here?
He: Lady, for three sufficing reasons—our foes pursue not, I'm a-weary, and 'tis very dark—
She: No matter! Ride on, I do command thee.
He: Aye, but whither?
She: I care not so thou leave this place; 'tis an evil place!
He: Why, 'tis good place, very well secluded and with stream hard by that bubbleth. So here will we bide till dawn. Suffer me to aid thee down.
She: Touch me not! Never think I fear thee though I am alone.