Just so much chance have any of us got at the hands of those who love us.
[Sound of a flute is heard.]
Dea
Gwymplane is coming!
Phedro [walking swiftly to Dea]
Mind what I tell you. Walk, feel your way down this long avenue of cypress to your right, and stop at the first white marble door you touch upon your left. Wait there for me. When I come I shall imitate the call of a cuckoo in order that the attendants may open to us immediately.
[Dea goes out hurriedly. Gwymplane saunters in with his strange, twisted walk.]
Phedro
You roam late in solitude among the damp grasses. Does that not make you too melancholy for jests?