The Lady.
I jested not: at daybreak I must go,
Yet loving thee far better than thou know.
Pierrot.
Then, by this altar, and this sacred shrine,
Take my sworn troth, and swear thee wholly mine!
The gods have wedded mortals long ere this.
The Lady.
There was enough betrothal in my kiss.
What need of further oaths?
Pierrot.
That bound not thee!
The Lady.
Peace! since I tell thee that it may not be.
But sit beside me whilst I soothe thy bale
With some moon fancy or celestial tale.