AUSTIN. Hush!
He reddens.

GUENDOLEN. Mark him, Austin; that's true love!
Ours must begin again.

TRESHAM. We'll sit, my lord.
Ever with best desert goes diffidence.
I may speak plainly nor be misconceived
That I am wholly satisfied with you
On this occasion, when a falcon's eye
Were dull compared with mine to search out faults,
Is somewhat. Mildred's hand is hers to give
Or to refuse.

MERTOUN. But you, you grant my suit?
I have your word if hers?

TRESHAM. My best of words
If hers encourage you. I trust it will.
Have you seen Lady Mildred, by the way?

MERTOUN. I... I... our two demesnes, remember, touch,
I have beer used to wander carelessly
After my stricken game: the heron roused
Deep in my woods, has trailed its broken wing
Thro' thicks and glades a mile in yours,--or else
Some eyass ill-reclaimed has taken flight
And lured me after her from tree to tree,