The Lady.
Teach me some pastime from the world of men.
Pierrot.
I have it, maiden.
The Lady.
Can it soon be taught?
Pierrot.
A single game, I learnt it at the Court.
I sit by thee.
The Lady.
But, prithee, not so near.
Pierrot.
That is essential, as will soon appear.
Lay here thine hand, which cold night dews anoint,
Washing its white ——
The Lady.
Now is this to the point?
Pierrot.
Prithee, forebear! Such is the game's design.
The Lady.
Here is my hand.
Pierrot.
I cover it with mine.