_Clor._ No, good _Frank_, Let him alone, I see his vein lyes only For falling out at Wakes and Bear-baitings, That may express him sturdy. _Fab._ Now indeed You are too sharp sweet Sister, for unless It be this sin, which is enough to drown him, I mean this sowrness, he's as brave a fellow, As forward, and as understanding else As any he that lives. _Fra._ I do believe you, And good Sir when you see him, if we have Distasted his opinion any way, Make peace again. _Fab._ I will: I'le leave ye Ladies. _Clor._ Take heed you had best, h'as sworn to pay you else. _Fab._ I warrant you, I have been often threatned. _Clor._ When he comes next, I'le have the cough or tooth-ach, Or something that shall make me keep my chamber, I love him so well. _Fra._ Would you would keep your tongue. [_Exeunt._ SCENE IV. _Enter_ Angelo. _Ang._ I cannot keep from this ungodly woman, This _Lelia_, whom I know too, yet am caught, Her looks are nothing like her; would her faults Were all in _Paris_ print upon her face, _Cum Privilegio_, to use 'em still, I would write an Epistle before it, on the inside of her masque And dedicate it to the whore of _Babylon_, with a preface upon Her nose to the gentle Reader; and they should be to be sold At the sign of the whores head i'th' pottage pot, in what Street you please. But all this helps not me;--I Am made to be thus catch'd, past any redress, with a thing I contemn too. I have read _Epictetus_ twice over against the Desire of these outward things, and still her face runs in My mind, I went to say my prayers, and they were So laid out o'th' way, that if I could find any prayers I Had, I'm no Christian, This is the door, and the short Is, I must see her again.-- [_He knocks._ _Enter Maid._ _Maid._ Who's there? _Ang._ 'Tis I, I would speak with your Mistriss. _Maid._ Did she send for you? _Ang._ No, what then? I would see her, prethee by thy leave. _Maid._ Not by my leave; for she will not see you, but doth hate you, and Your friend, and doth wish you both hang'd, which being so proper Men, is great pity, that you are not. _Ang._ How's this? _Maid._ For your sweet self in particular, who she resolves perswaded your Friend to neglect her, she deemeth whip-cord the most Convenient unction for your back and shoulders. _Ang._ Let me in, I'le satisfie her.