_The Antechamber at Court. Two girls, dressed as gentleman and
page—Mistress Mary Fitton and Lady Cynthia Darrel—are talking together
at one end of the room_, L. _Sir Walter Raleigh as Captain of the Guard
is standing by the great door_, R.
HERBERT:
[_Enters_, R.C.] Nothing yet, Captain?
RALEIGH:
Nothing, my lord.
HERBERT:
[_Impatiently._] Hum! [_Goes on down the room and bows to Miss Fitton._]
I’ve not seen you before, lady, and yet I swear I know you.
LADY CYNTHIA DARREL:
That were difficult; my friend’s new come to Court.
HERBERT:
And yet I’d wager it is Mistress Mary Fitton. [_Bows to her and half
whispers._] And yester even with Lady Rutland—[_louder_] shall I say
where?
MISS FITTON:
You may, my lord; the place is innocent. ’Tis the intent makes guilt.
HERBERT:
You were where my friend saw you, and lost his heart. If you found it,
guard it well: he’s worthier than his place.
MISS FITTON:
Men only praise what they wish to part with, or think beneath them.
HERBERT:
You’re witty, lady!
MISS FITTON:
Wit’s the Christian name for sense, at Court.
HERBERT:
May not one praise his friend?
MISS FITTON:
Never to a woman!
HERBERT:
Why not?
MISS FITTON:
Who praise the friend, dispraise the woman.
HERBERT:
You’re too persuaded to be changed. Lady Cynthia, the Mistress of the
Robes has sent me for you; may I give you conduct to her? [_To Miss
Fitton, bowing._] Would you be seated lady? [_Pointing to a seat._] Your
page will be returned before you’ve missed her. [_Bows low. They go
off_, R.C.]