"Hunts. Oh never such as thou art—witness all….
"Reg. Then wherefore couldst thou not live here? For I do feel, tho' tenfold darkness did surround this spot, I could be blest, would you but stay here; and, if it made you sad to be imprison'd thus, I'd sing and play for thee, and dress thee sweetest fruits, and though you chid me, would kiss thy tear away and hide my blushing face upon thy bosom—indeed, I would. Then what avails the gaudy day, and all the evil things I'm told inhabit there, to those who have within themselves all that delight and love, and heaven can give.
"Hunts. My angel, thou hast indeed the soul of love.
"Reg. It is no ill thing, is it?
"Hunts. Oh most divine—it is the immediate gift of heaven, which steals into our breast … 'tis that which makes me sigh thus, look thus—fear and tremble for thee.
"Reg. Sure I should learn it too, if you would teach me.
(Sound of horn without—Huntsman starts.)
"Reg. You must not go—this is but a dance preparing for my amusement—oh we have, indeed, some pleasures here—come, I will sing for you the while.
"Song.
"Wilt thou then leave me? canst thou go from me,
To woo the fair that love the gaudy day?
Yet, e'en among those joys, thou'lt find that she,
Who dwells in darkness, loves thee more than they.
For these poor hands, and these unpractised eyes,
And this poor heart is thine without disguise.