Zir. Come!
His majesty must know. [Ziralay and officer go into house]
Meg. How may I help you? Let the service be
Of such poor nature as your dog might give,
And pride will whistle to it.
Her. O, my lord,
I half believe you. When our angels fall,
Then devils are not black. And I have lost
My father.
Meg. Devils! You've a tongue.
Her. Forgive
A heart unmantled, and too wild to choose
What word may veil it. I would say, my lord,
In this discolored world I now begin
To find you fair,——
Meg. O, heavenly retraction!
Her. And if I ask a service it will be
No paltry one, but such as makes the king
Bow to the knight.
Meg. I'll prove this grace
Is native in me, and not solely lent
Of your new bounty!
Her. Would you save the life
Of Chartrien?
Meg. I would. Though a treasonous tool
Of rebelry, he should be held by me
A prisoner of knightliest war.