+Lod.+ Delicate Pambo. [_Aside._ +Clown.+ And truly there's a great dew fallen to-night; The grass is wondrous wet. +Lod.+ Sweet rogue! [_Aside._ +Clown.+ Come, Francis, And let us sport ourselves in yonder rushes, And being set, I'll smother thee with busses. +Lod.+ O villain! [_Aside._ +Fran.+ Hear me, lady: It is enough, my lord hath now a friend In these dishonest days, that dares be honest. +Lod.+ How is this? +Clown.+ Nay, for thy lord, he's a mere coxcomb, Francis. +Lod.+ Out, rogue! +Fran.+ 'Tis but your bad desires that tell you so. Can I contain a heart, or can that heart Harbour a thought of injury 'gainst him Under whose wing I safely stretch my pinions? Has he not nobly entertain'd me? stand I not Next neighbour, save yourself, unto his heart? +Lod.+ Ay, by this hand, dost thou. +Fran.+ And should I quit him thus? No, lady, no. +Lod.+ Brave Frank! +Fran.+ I am too wise to fall in love with woe, Much less with wo-man. I but took advantage Of my lord's absence for your trial, lady. For fear some fellow (far hotter rein'd than I) Might have sought [her] and sped: and I'd be loth A lord so loving---- +Lod.+ Shalt have five leases, by these fingers. +Fran.+ Should have a lady false. Back, lady, to your yet unblemish'd bed: Preserve your honour and your lord's----calf's head. +Clown.+ Well, Francis, you had been better--if I do not tell my lord of this! +Lod.+ He has put him to't now. +Fran.+ Then I am lost for ever: You'll turn it all on me, I know; but ere I'll live to wrong so good a lord, or stand The mark unto your malice, I will first Fall on my sword and perish. +Lod.+ Hold, hold, hold, man! +Fran.+ Ha, who are you? +Lod.+ One that has more humanity in him, than to see a proper fellow cast himself away, I warrant thee. 'Tis I, 'tis I, man: I have heard all. +Clown.+ And 'twas I played my lady to have snapped ye. +Fran.+ Has she been then so good to tell your honour? Now am I worse afflicted than before, That she should thus outrun me in this race Of honesty. +Lod.+ Nay, sh' has bobb'd thee bravely. Sh' has a thousand of these tricks, i' faith, man: But howsoever, what I have found thee, I have found thee. Hark in thine ear, shalt have five leases And mine own nag, when th' hast a mind to ride. +Fran.+ Let me deserve, sir, first. +Lod.+ Shalt have them. I know what I do, I warrant thee. +Fran.+ I joy in such a lady. +Lod.+ Nay, there's a couple of you, for a wife and a friend. Shalt be no more my servant. I had thought to have made thee my steward, but thou'rt too honest for the place, that's the truth on't.