_John._ The same to you brave Sir; _Don Frederick_, Will ye step in and give the Lady notice Who comes to honour her? _Petr._ Bid her be sudden, We come to see no curious wench: a night-gown Will serve the turn: here's one that knows her nearer. _Fred._ I'le tell her what ye say, Sir. [_Exit Fred._ _Duke._ My dear brother, Ye are a merry Gentleman. _Petr._ Now will the sport be, To observe her alterations; how like a wildfire She'll leap into your bosom; then seeing me, Her conscience, and her fears creeping upon her, Dead as a fowl at souse, she'll sink. _Duke._ Fair Brother, I must intreat you-- _Petr._ I conceive your mind, Sir, I will not chide her: yet ten Duckets, Duke, She falls upon her knees, ten more she dare not-- _Duke._ I must not have her frighted. _Petr._ Well you shall not: _Enter_ Frederick, _and_ Peter. But like a Summers evening against heat, Mark how I'le guild her cheeks! _John._ How now? _Fred._ Ye may, Sir: Not to abuse your patience, noble friends, Nor hold ye off with tedious circumstance, For you must know-- _Petr._ What? _Duke._ Where is she? _Fred._ Gone, Sir. _Duke._ How? _Petr._ What did you say, Sir? _Fred._ Gone, by Heaven removed, The woman of the house too. _John._ Well _Don Frederick_. _Fred._ _Don John_, it is not well, but-- _Pet._ Gone? _Fred._ This fellow Can testifie I lye not. _Peter._ Some four hours after My Master was departed, with this Gentleman, My fellow and my self being sent of business, (As we must think) of purpose-- _Petr._ Hang these circumstances, They appear like Owls, to ill ends. _John._ Now could I eat The Devil in his own broth, I am so tortur'd. Gone? _Petr._ Gone? _Fred._ Directly gone, fled, shifted: what would you have me say? _Duke._ Well, Gentlemen, Wrong not my good opinion. _Fred._ For your Dukedom I will not be a Knave, Sir. _John._ He that is, A rot run in his bloud. _Petr._ But hark ye Gentlemen, Are ye sure ye had her here, did ye not dream this? _John._ Have you your nose, Sir? _Petr._ Yes, Sir. _John._ Then we had her. _Petr._ Since you are so short, believe your having her Shall suffer more construction. _John._ Let it suffer, But if I be not clear of all dishonour, Or practice that may taint my reputation, And ignorant of where this Woman is, Make me your Cities monster. _Duke._ I believe ye. _John._ I could lye with a Witch now, to be reveng'd, Upon that Rascal did this.