Dea [modestly]
Yes, I love, I am beloved.
Duchess [quizzically regarding her]
By whom, pray?
Dea
Messire Gwymplane of the circus troop.
Duchess [throwing back her head and laughing]
No? Beloved by Gwymplane, you say?
[Gwymplane looks at her in a horror of bewilderment, the point of her conduct beginning to pierce his heart.]
Dea