_Tim_. No, indeed, will I not. Her mother may be angry if she please. The time has bin she would as willingly Bin at the sport her selfe as now her daughter. The ge[ntleman] shees gon with is a man, And see theres no harme d[one], I warrant you. _Lov_. Ha, ha, gramercy, _Timothy_, thou hittst it right. _Maudlin_, goe to; should _Tim_ here offer as much to you, ha, I beleave you would not lock your selfe up in my ladyes closett; goe to, and goe to. [_Exeunt_. _Ma_. Udsme, my lady! _Enter Lady_. _Lady_. Lost, past redemption! I pursue a fier Which like the giddy Meteors that seduce With their false light benighted travellers Allures me to distruction. To curse fate Were to allow I feard it, and admit Participation in me of that spiritt I most detest, a womans. _Lov_. Please your good Ladyship. _Lady_. Yes, that you depart.-- [_Exit Alexander_. What can he see in her more worthy love Then is in me? shees but a picture drawne By my dimensions, and men sooner fancy The Substance then the Shaddow. Oh, but shee Is the true image not of what I am But what I was, when like the spring I wore My virgin roses on my cheeks. _Lov_. Madam, you seeme-- _Lady_. Angry at your impertinency; learne manners, leave me. _Lov_. She has coniurd downe my spirit: these are immodest devills that make modest ladyes become strickers[118]. Ile out oth storme, take shelter in the cellar. Goe to and goe to; tis better venter quarriling mongst those hogesheads. [_Exit Alexander_. _Enter Maudlin [and Timothy.]_ _Ma_. Madam, your daughter-- _Lady_. Where is she? Who? _Clariana_? _Ma_. The faire _Belisea_. _Enter Clariana_. _Cla_. Did you call me, madam. _Lady_. Noe: were you soe neere? begon againe,-- Yet stay.--_Maudlin_, avoid the Roome, and if you see Mr. _Thurston_, entreat him hither. _Timothy_, Find out my son and charge him to delay The execution of my late comaund Till I next speake with him. [_Exeunt Mag. and Tim_. _Clariana_, you did what I comanded? _Cla_. Yes, on my Soule. _Lady_. But thou art ignorant Why with such violence I inioyn[e]d thee To leave thy _Thurstons_ love? _Cla_. Were I not sure Theres nought in him that can be titled ill, I should have thought your circumspective Judgment Had spide some error in him, and in care Of me your child forbidden me his love. But whatsoer's the cause, though your comaund Was like perdition welcome, my obedience Fullfild it truly, without questioning The reason why or the unlimited power Of you my mother.