_Evan._ I have man enough already to content me, As much, as noble, and as worthy of me, As all the World can yield. _Fred._ That's but your modesty, You have no man, nay never look upon me, I know it, Lady, no man to content ye, No man that can, or at the least, that dares, Which is a poorer man, and nearer nothing. _Evan._ Be nobler, Sir, inform'd. _Fred._ I'll tell thee, Wench, The poor condition of this poorer fellow, And make thee blush for shame at thine own errour, He never tendred yet a husbands duty, To thy warm longing bed. _Evan._ How should he know that? _Fred._ I am sure he did not, for I charg'd him no, Upon his life I charg'd him, but to try him; Could any brave or noble spirit stop here? Was life to be preferr'd before affection? Lawful and long'd for too? _Evan._ Did you command him? _Fred._ I did in policy to try his spirit. _Evan._ And could he be so dead cold to observe it? Brought I no beauty, nor no love along with me? _Fred._ Why, that is it that makes me scorn to name him. I should have lov'd him if he had ventur'd for't, Nay, doted on his bravery. _Evan._ Only charg'd? And with that spell sit down? dare men fight bravely For poor slight things, for drink, or ostentation? And there indanger both their lives and fortunes, And for their lawful loves fly off with fear? _Fred._ 'Tis true, and with a cunning base fear too to abuse thee? Made thee believe, poor innocent _Evanthe_, Wretched young Girl, it was his impotency; Was it not so? deny it. _Evan._ O my anger! at my years to be cozen'd with a young man! _Fred._ A strong man too, certain he lov'd ye dearly. _Evan._ To have my shame and love mingled together, And both flung on me like a weight to sink me, I would have dyed a thousand times. _Fred._ So would any, Any that had the spirit of a man; I would have been kill'd in your arms. _Evan._ I would he had been, And buried in mine arms, that had been noble, And what a monument would I have made him? Upon this breast he should have slept in peace, Honour, and everlasting love his mourners; And I still weeping till old time had turn'd me, And pitying powers above into pure crystal. _Fred._ Hadst thou lov'd me, and had my way been stuck With deaths, as thick as frosty nights with stars, I would have ventur'd. _Evan._ Sure there is some trick in't: _Valerio_ ne'r was Coward. _Fred._ Worse than this too, Tamer, and seasoning of a baser nature, He set your woman on ye to betray ye, Your bawdy woman, or your sin solicitor; I pray but think what this man may deserve now, I know he did, and did it to please me too. _Evan._ Good Sir afflict me not too fast, I feel I am a woman, and a wrong'd one too, And sensible I am of my abuses, Sir, you have loved me.