Her. You grant one as you beg,
Your majesty. I'll not do less than give
Your own again. But pray you name it, sir.
Cor. This garden where our amity has borne
Its fairest blossom shall be called henceforth
The Grove of Peace, and we would beg your highness
To queen our christening.
Her. A queenly part,
And royally I thank you, but I'll play it
With humblest prayer that Heaven may keep unbroken
These new-sworn bonds between my land and yours.
Cor. So pray we all.
Her. Is this our scene?
Cor. Not here.
Come you this way, my friends. We'll cast the wine
To yon cascade, and let the waters bear it
Down to my capital.
[All go off upper right, except two officers, who remain centre, and a guard who walks to and fro by wall rear, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden by the wood and rocks]
First Off. This peace will prove
As stout as any spider's thread that swings
In a blowing rain. Fah!
Second Off. Climb what hill you please,
You see the rebels' smoke.
First Off. But where in name
Of magic does Bolderez get his gold?
The rebels we pick up have lost no meals.