DUKE.
’Tis well borne up.
I have not yet made known to Mariana
A word of this.—What ho, within! Come forth.
Enter Mariana.
I pray you be acquainted with this maid;
She comes to do you good.
ISABELLA.
I do desire the like.
DUKE.
Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
MARIANA.
Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.
DUKE.
Take, then, this your companion by the hand,
Who hath a story ready for your ear.
I shall attend your leisure; but make haste.
The vaporous night approaches.
MARIANA.
Will’t please you walk aside?
[Exeunt Mariana and Isabella.]
DUKE.
O place and greatness, millions of false eyes
Are stuck upon thee; volumes of report
Run with these false, and most contrarious quest
Upon thy doings; thousand escapes of wit
Make thee the father of their idle dream
And rack thee in their fancies.