_Fath._ Thou art Something created to succeed the Devil When he grows weary of his envious course, And compassing the World; but I believe thee Thou didst but mean to try my patience, And dost so still; but better be advis'd, And make thy tryal with some other things, That safelier will admit a dalliance; And if it should be earnest, understand How curst thou art, so far from Heaven, That thou believ'st it not enough to damn alone, Or with a stranger, but wouldst heap all sins Unnatural upon this aged head, And draw thy Father to thy Bed, and Hell. _Lel._ You are deceiv'd, Sir, 'tis not against nature For us to lye together; if you have An Arrow of the same Tree with your Bow, Is't more unnatural to shoot it there Than in another? 'Tis our general nature To procreate, as fire is to consume, And it will trouble you to find a stick The fire will turn from; If't be Natures will We should not mix, she will discover to us Some most apparent crossness, as our organs Will not be fit; which, if we do perceive, We'll leave, and think it is her pleasure That we should deal with others. _Fath._ The doors are fast, thou shalt not say a Prayer, 'Tis not Heavens will thou shouldst; when this is done I'll kill my self, that never man may tell me I got thee. [_Father draws his Sword_, Angelo _discovers himself_. _Lel._ I pray you, Sir, help her, for Heavens sake, Sir. _Ang._ Hold, Reverend Sir, for honour of your Age. _Fath._ Who's that? _Ang._ For safety of your Soul, and of the Soul Of that too-wicked woman yet to dye. _Fath._ What art thou? and how cam'st thou to that place? _Ang._ I am a man so strangely hither come, That I have broke an Oath in speaking this, But I believe 'twas better broke than kept, And I desire your patience; let me in, And I protest I will not hinder you In any act you wish, more than by word, If so I can perswade you, that I will not Use violence, I'll throw my Sword down to you; This house holds none but I, only a maid Whom I will lock fast in as I come down. _Fath._ I do not know thee, but thy tongue doth seem To be acquainted with the truth so well, That I will let thee in; throw down thy Sword. _Ang._ There 'tis. _Lel._ How came he there? I am betray'd to shame, The fear of sudden death struck me all over So violently, that I scarce have breath [_He lets in_ Angelo, _and locks the Door_. To speak yet; but I have it in my head, And out it shall, that (Father) may perhaps O'r-reach you yet. _Enter Father, and_ Angelo. _Fath._ Come, Sir, what is't you say? _Lel._ My _Angelo_, by all the joys of love, Thou art as welcome as these pliant arms Twin'd round, and fast about thee, can perswade thee. _Ang._ Away.