ARCITE.
She is wondrous faire.
PALAMON.
She is beauty extant.
EMILIA.
The Sun grows high, lets walk in: keep these flowers;
Weele see how neere Art can come neere their colours.
I am wondrous merry hearted, I could laugh now.
WOMAN.
I could lie downe, I am sure.
EMILIA.
And take one with you?
WOMAN.
That’s as we bargaine, Madam.
EMILIA.
Well, agree then. [Exeunt Emilia and woman.]
PALAMON.
What thinke you of this beauty?
ARCITE.
Tis a rare one.
PALAMON.
Is’t but a rare one?