_Dor._ Now you play your true self; How would my father love this! I'll assure you She will not see you; she has heard (and loudly) The gambols that you plaid since your departure, In every Town ye came, your several mischiefs, Your rowses and your wenches; all your quarrels, And the no-causes of 'em; these I take it Although she love ye well, to modest ears, To one that waited for your reformation, To which end travel was propounded by her Uncle, Must needs, and reason for it, be examined, And by her modesty, and fear'd too light too, To fyle with her affections; ye have lost her For any thing I see, exil'd your self. _Thom._ No more of that, sweet _Doll_, I will be civil. _Dor._ But how long? _Thom._ Would'st thou have me lose my Birth-right? For yond old thing will disinherit me If I grow too demure; good sweet _Doll_, prithee, Prithee, dear Sister, let me see her. _Dor._ No. _Thom._ Nay, I beseech thee, by this light. _Dor._ I, swagger. _Thom._ Kiss me, and be my friend, we two were twins, And shall we now grow strangers? _Dor._ 'Tis not my fault. _Thom._ Well, there be other women, and remember You, you were the cause of this; there be more lands too, And better People in 'em, fare ye well, And other loves; what shall become of me And of my vanities, because they grieve ye? _Dor._ Come hither, come, do you see that Cloud that flies there? So light are you, and blown with every fancy: Will ye but make me hope ye may be civil? I know your Nature's sweet enough, and tender, Not grated on, nor curb'd: do you love your Mistress? _Thom._ He lies that says I do not. _Dor._ Would ye see her? _Thom._ If you please, for it must be so. _Dor._ And appear to her A thing to be belov'd? _Thom._ Yes. _Dor._ Change then A little of your wildness into wisdom, And put on a more smoothness; I'll do the best I can to help ye, yet I do protest she swore, and swore it deeply, She would never see you more; where's your mans heart now? What, do you faint at this? _Thom._ She is a woman; But him she entertains next for a servant, I shall be bold to quarter. _Dor._ No thought of fighting; Go in, and there we'll talk more, be but rul'd, And what lies in my power, ye shall be sure of. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _Enter_ Alice, _and_ Mary. _Alice._ He cannot be so wild still. _Mary._ 'Tis most certain, I have now heard all, and all the truth.