The Lady.
What am I, then?
Pierrot.
A most divine Marquise!
Perhaps that attitude hath too much ease.
[Passes her.]
Ah, that is better! To complete the plan,
Nothing is necessary save a fan.
The Lady.
Cool is the night, what needs it?
Pierrot.
Madame, pray
Reflect, it is essential to our play.
The Lady [taking a lily].
Here is my fan!
Pierrot.
So, use it with intent:
The deadliest arm in beauty's armament!
Pierrot.
We talk!
The Lady.
But what about?
Pierrot.
We quiz the company and praise the rout;
Are polished, petulant, malicious, sly,
Or what you will, so reputations die.
Observe the Duchess in Venetian lace,
With the red eminence.