Nay, clear I see, and well at ease!
God's body! what fair Kings be these?
GILES
The Emperor's chamberlains, behold
Their silver shoes and staves of gold.
Look, look! how like some heaven come down
The maidens go with girded gown!
JOAN
Yea, yea, and this last row of them
Draw up their kirtles by the hem,
And scatter roses e'en like those
About my father's garden-close.
GILES
Ah! have I hurt you? See the girls
Whose slim hands scatter very pearls.
JOAN
Hold me fast, Giles! here comes one
Whose raiment flashes down the sun.
GILES