+Fran.+ Let me [see]: Four steps on the left hand. I have the bed, And on this side she lies. 'Sfoot, there's a beard! But all's well yet, she lies on this side, sure. I have her: 'tis her hand, I know the touch. It melts me into passion. I have much ado To contain my wild desires. As the wind strains In caverns lock'd, so through my big-swoll'n veins My blood cuts capers. +Dor.+ Who's there? +Fran.+ 'Tis I. +Dor.+ Francis! +Fran.+ Fortunate Francis, that was wrapped in's mother's smock. +Dor.+ Give me your hand, Francis. +Fran.+ There 'tis. I melt already! +Dor.+ My lord! Count Lodovico, awake! +Fran.+ I am lost for ever, madam. +Dor.+ My lord! my lord! +Fran.+ If I pull too hard, I shall pull her out o' th' bed too. +Dor.+ My lord, will ye not wake? +Lod.+ What's the matter? what's the matter? +Fran.+ How I do dwindle! +Dor.+ Pray, hear me, sir; I cannot sleep, till you Have resolv'd me one thing. +Lod.+ What is't, sweetheart? +Dor.+ Of all your men, which do you love best? +Lod.+ That's a strange question to ask at midnight! Francisco. +Dor.+ And that same false Francisco in your absence Most lewdly tempted me to wrong your bed. +Fran.+ Was ever woodcock catch'd thus! +Lod.+ O rogue, I'll go cut his throat sleeping. +Dor.+ Nay, I have fitted him most daintily. +Fran.+ Now, now, now, now, I am spitted. +Dor.+ I seem'd, sweetheart, to consent to him---- +Fran.+ A plague of seemings. I were best confess, And beg pardon. +Dor.+ And to make him sure for your revenge, I appointed About this hour, the door left ope on purpose---- +Fran.+ Ah! +Dor.+ To meet me in the garden. +Fran.+ All's well again. +Dor.+ Now, sweetheart, If thou wouldst but steal down thither, thou might'st Catch him, and snap the fool very finely. +Lod.+ O my sweet birds-nie! what a wench have I Of thee! _Crede quod habes, et habes_ still. And I had thought it possible to have been Cuckolded, I had been cuckolded. I'll take my rapier as I go, sirrah; And the night being dark, I'll speak like thee, As if thou hadst kept thy word. O villain! Nothing vexes me, but that he should think I can be a cuckold, and have such a lady. Do thou lie still, and I'll bring thee his heart For thy monkey's breakfast. +Dor.+ And would you part unkindly, and not kiss me? +Lod.+ I have no more manners than a goose. Farewell, My chaste, delicious Doll. What may his life Be compar'd to that meets with such a wife! [_Exit._ _Enter +Clown+._ +Fran.+ Pish, Pambo! +Clown.+ Here, boy. +Fran.+ Go meet him in the garden, and hark. +Clown.+ Excellent! I'll play my lady, I warrant ye. +Fran.+ Do't daintily.