Niece. Or these embroidered valleys—
Cler. Or that transparent stream—
Niece. Or these bowing branches on the banks of it, that seem to admire their own beauty in the crystal mirror?
Cler. I am surprised, madam, at the delicacy of your phrase. Can such expressions come from Lombard Street?
Niece. Alas, sir! what can be expected from an innocent virgin that has been immured almost one-and-twenty years from the conversation of mankind, under the care of an Urganda[498] of an aunt?
Cler. Bless me, madam, how have you been abused! Many a lady before your age has had an hundred lances broken in her service, and as many dragons cut to pieces in honour of her.
Niece. Oh, the charming man! [Aside.]
Cler. Do you believe Pamela was one-and-twenty before she knew Musidorus?[499]
Niece. I could hear him ever. [Aside.]