Queen. At Mount-saint.[218]
Phil. A royal game, and worthy of the name,
And meetest even for saints to exercise.
Sure, it was of a woman's first invention.
Queen. It is not saint, but cent, taken from hundreds.
Phil. True, for 'mongst millions hardly is found one saint.
Queen. Indeed you may allow a double game;
But come, lift for the dealing; it is my chance to deal.
Phil. An action most-most proper to your sex.
Enter Cyprus.
Cyp. How now, my waking dragon, thou whose eyes
Do never fall or close through Lethean sleep:
What, is there a Hercules that dare to touch
Or enter the Hesperian rosaries?[219]
Epire. Speak softly, gentle lord; behold, behold,
The silly birds are tangled in your snare,
And have no way to 'scape your punishment.
See, how her eyes do court him, and his looks
Pay to her love a double interest.
Fie, fie! they are to blame.
Queen. What are you, my lord?