The little that a lady's speech commends;
And in the hope that, let whichever be
The other's subject, we may both be friends.

SEG.
Your hand to that--But why does this warm hand
Shoot a cold shudder through me?

EST.
In revenge
For likening me to that cold moon, perhaps.

SEG.
Oh, but the lip whose music tells me so
Breathes of a warmer planet, and that lip
Shall remedy the treason of the hand!
(He catches to embrace her.)

EST.
Release me, sir!

CHAMB.
And pardon me, my Lord.
This lady is a Princess absolute,
As Prince he is who just saluted you,
And claims her by affiance.

SEG.
Hence, old fool,
For ever thrusting that white stick of yours