Bian. Yes, Maquerelle. 27
Maq. I hope you’ll find the discretion to purchase a fresh gown ’fore his return.—Now, by my troth, beauties, I would ha’ ye once wise: he loves ye; pish! he is witty; bubble! fair-proportioned; mew! nobly-born; wind! Let this be still your fixed position; esteem me every man according to his good gifts, and so ye shall ever remain most worthy to be, most dear ladies.
Emil. Is the duke returned from hunting yet?
Maq. They say not yet.
Bian. ’Tis now in midst of day. 37
Emil. How bears the duchess with this blemish now?
Maq. Faith, boldly; strongly defies defame, as one that has a duke to her father. And there’s a note to
you: be sure of a stout friend in a corner, that may always awe your husband. Mark the behaviour of the duchess now: she dares defame; cries, “Duke, do what thou canst, I’ll quit mine honour:” nay, as one confirmed in her own virtue against ten thousand mouths that mutter her disgrace, she’s presently for dances.
Bian. For dances!
Maq. Most true.