If you please, A most sweet folly! Full of mirth and melancholy: Both of these! In its sadness worth all gladness, If you please! THE LADY. Prithee where, Goes Love a-hiding? Is he long in his abiding Anywhere? Can you bind him when you find him; Prithee, where? PIERROT. With spring days Love comes and dallies: Upon the mountains, through the valleys Lie Love's ways. Then he leaves you and deceives you In spring days. THE LADY. Thine answers please me: 'tis thy turn to ask. To meet thy questioning be now my task. PIERROT. Since I know thee, dear Immortal, Is my heart become a blossom, To be worn upon thy bosom. When thou turn me from this portal, Whither shall I, hapless mortal, Seek love out and win again Heart of me that thou retain? THE LADY. In and out the woods and valleys, Circling, soaring like a swallow, Love shall flee and thou shalt follow: Though he stops awhile and dallies, Never shalt thou stay his malice! Moon-kissed mortals seek in vain To possess their hearts again! PIERROT. Tell me, Lady, shall I never Rid me of this grievous burden! Follow Love and find his guerdon In no maiden whatsoever? Wilt thou hold my heart forever? Rather would I thine forget, In some earthly Pierrette! THE LADY. Thus thy fate, what'er thy will is! Moon-struck child, go seek my traces Vainly in all mortal faces! In and out among the lilies, Court each rural Amaryllis: Seek the signet of Love's hand In each courtly Corisande! PIERROT. Now, verily, sweet maid, of school I tire; These answers are not such as I desire. THE LADY. Why art thou sad? PIERROT. I dare not tell. THE LADY [_caressingly_]. Come, say! PIERROT. Is love all schooling, with no time to play? THE LADY. Though all love's lessons be a holiday, Yet I will humor thee: what wouldst thou play? PIERROT. What are the games that small moon-maids enjoy: Or is their time all spent in staid employ? THE LADY. Sedate they are, yet games they much enjoy: They skip with stars, the rainbow is their toy. PIERROT. That is too hard! THE LADY. For mortal's play. PIERROT. What then? THE LADY. Teach me some pastime from the world of men. PIERROT. I have it, maiden. THE LADY. Can it soon be taught? PIERROT. A single game, I learnt it at the Court. THE LADY. But, prithee, not so near. PIERROT. That is essential, as will soon appear. Lay here thine hand, which cold night dews anoint, Washing its white-- THE LADY. Now is this to the point? PIERROT. Prithee, forbear! Such is the game's design. THE LADY.