The Bailiff. Then tell thine own night’s tale: there’s privilege.
Theodora. A simplest tale. When dedicated hands
Gave me this dress, lest I should suffer wrong,
The strong disguise bred courage; but I went
Only a mile: the armor was too heavy.
Where blossomed almonds shade the roadside well,
Did I fall down, aswoon; I think I swooned
For long; and some late revelers, passing by,
Found me, and with a tumult took me hither.
Fulfill your will in pity; I would rest.