BEROWNE.
Their eyes, villain, their eyes.
MOTH.
That ever turned their eyes to mortal views.
Out—
BOYET.
True; out indeed.
MOTH.
Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
Not to behold—
BEROWNE.
Once to behold, rogue!
MOTH.
Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes—
With your sun-beamed eyes—
BOYET.
They will not answer to that epithet.
You were best call it “daughter-beamed eyes”.
MOTH.
They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
BEROWNE.
Is this your perfectness? Be gone, you rogue!
[Exit Moth.]