So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
He doth nothing but talk of his horses.
Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
Then happy I that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.
Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.