Lady. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise
That is addressed to unattending ears.
Not any boast of skill, but [extreme shift]
How to regain my severed company,
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo 275
To give me answer from her mossy couch.
Comus. [What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thus?]
Lady. Dim darkness and this leavy labyrinth.
Comus. Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?
Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 280