Con. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants
To speak with him, unless indeed it be
A man in lady's gear; I look so bold
And speak so gruff. Away! [PHOEBE goes out.] That I am glad
He stays in town, I own, but if I am,
'Tis only for the tricks I'll play upon him,
And now begin, persuading him his fame
Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither
On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot!
THIS he? Why, what has metamorphosed him.
And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman?
Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder,
Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air
The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at!
[Enter WILDRAKE.]
Wild. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands.
Con. My veiled face denies me justice, sir,
Else would you see a maiden's blushing cheek
Do penance for her forwardness; too late,
I own, repented of. Yet if 'tis true,
By our own hearts of others we may judge,
Mine in no peril lies that's shown to you,
Whose heart, I'm sure, is noble. Worthy sir,
Souls attract souls when they're of kindred vein.
The life that you love, I love. Well I know,
'Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase,
You stand without a peer; and for myself
I dare avow 'mong such, none follows them
With heartier glee than I do.
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