CHARLES: You falter?
No matter--now. (_To HELENA._) But you, my fair one, put
More merriment upon your lips and lids,
And this (_giving pearls_) upon the lustre of your throat.
Hither our guests come soon. Be with us then,
And at your beauty's best. Now; trembling so?--
Yet is the lily lovelier in the wind!
(_He looks after, musingly, as she goes._