The speech continues for some time; and indeed, you note, 'tis quite rhetorically elaborate for an impromptu fit of passion. But be that as it may, the peasants are so sorely roused that by the time she reaches her conclusion—"And will we sit and bear it?"—there's a rousing "No!" from a score of throats.
By that time, the soldier and the courtier have already turned tail and run, cutting quite an undignified character as they disappear down the hill to the meadow beyond. The curly-haired woman leads a perfunctory chase some moments later, and her party too disappears from sight.
You stand in place, your mind churning. You know you should be consumed with grief that the Duke's representatives seem to have seen all they care to of you; but something else impels you forward first.
Moments later, having descended the hill, you find the half-hearted hunters led by the curly-haired firebrand have already given up the chase. There's a great deal of hand-shaking and back-slapping for their bravery as they begin to disperse.
Their leader brushes her ringlets from her eyes as you approach, clearly surprised to see you. "We seem to have missed them, the rascals," she says, putting hands to hips with a sigh.
"Tell me truly, friend," you say, leaning close to her. "What did I just witness?"
She looks into your eyes. A little smirk catches her lip.
Onward