Page:Dramas 1.pdf/30

22

Yes, she will soon be here; She's coming from the wood.

With steps, I warrant, Light as the bounding roe.

Nay, good my Lord, Donna Zorada, somewhat lame, I guess, Comes with slow steps, supported on the arm Of young Don Maurice.

I'll bear her in my arms: she is in pain. The very pressure of the velvet turf Will do her injury.[Exit hastily.

Thou wear'st a surly smile upon thy face, Good Pietro, mine old friend; what may it mean? Thy Lord, methinks, is a right tender husband.

Ay, marry is he! I remember well His lady mother urged him oft to wed. "Become a woman's toy!" quoth he: "am I Of such soft matter form'd, that you, forsooth, Would make a husband of me?" Then he'd speak Of women, even the fairest and the best, With such sharp taunts, that she, good lady, sigh'd, And in despair forbore all further plea.