Ar. And how did all end?
Laz. Well—as I am home at last safe and sound.
Ces. Arias, you share my heart; even read my letter with me. (They read.)
Laz. (aside). That my master should trust that babbler who let out about my wooden sword to the Prince! my life upon ’t, he’ll do the same to him; for he who sucks in gossip is the first to leak it.
Ar. Sweetly she writes!
Ces. How should it be but sweet,
Where modesty and wit and true love meet?
Ar. And expects you this evening!
Ces. Till which each minute is an hour, each hour
A day, a year, a century!