Mary. I know not ... yet I know
If she had met us, she could steal To-day,
Golden To-day.
Herbert. A kiss; and so forget her.
Mary.
Hush, hush,—the tavern-boy there.
[To Dickon.] Tell me, boy,—
[To Herbert.] Some errand, now; a roc's egg!
Strike thy wit.
Herbert.
What is't you miss? Why, so. The lady's lost
A very curious reason, wrought about
With diverse broidery.
Mary. Nay, 'twas a mask.
Herbert.
A mask, arch-wit? Why will you mock yourself
And all your fine deceits? Your mask, your reason,
Your reason with a mask!
Mary. You are too merry.
[To Dickon.] A mask it is, and muffler finely wrought
With little amber points all hung like bells.
I lost it as I came, somewhere....
Herbert. Somewhere
Between the Paris Gardens and the Bridge.
Mary.
Or below Bridge—or haply in the Thames!
Herbert.
No matter where, so you do bring it back.
Fly, Mercury! Here's feathers for thy heels. [Giving coin.]