Vig. It is her sickish humor, sir, to look
On him again. All this wild pother means
No more than that.
Ban. No more? We'll please her then
For our good peace to come.
Bion. A princely kindness.
[They talk together. Ardia crosses to altar]
Ard. Now one more miracle! God live in me,
And Christ direct my hand!
Bion. What do you say,
My sister?
Ard. But a word to mine own heart.
Ban. Nay, mine now, is it not?
Ard. So much of it
As dearest lenience may buy, my lord.
[Bertrand is brought in guarded]