_Cal._ And dost thou glory in this sin? _Cla._ I am glad on't, to glory in't is for a mighty Lady That may command. _Cal._ Why didst thou name _Lisander_? _Clari._ Does it anger ye? does it a little gall ye? I know it does, why would ye urge me Lady? Why would ye be so curious to compel me? I nam'd _Lisander_ as my president, The rule I err'd by, you love him, I know it, I grudg'd not at it, but am pleas'd it is so; And by my care and diligence you enjoy'd him, Shall I for keeping counsel, have no comfort? Will you have all your self? ingross all pleasure Are ye so hard hearted? why do ye blush now, Madam? _Cal._ My anger blushes, not my shame, base woman. _Clari._ I'le make your shame blush, since you put me to't. Who lay with you t'other night? _Cal._ With me? ye monster. _Clari._ Whose sweet embraces circled ye? not your husbands; I wonder ye dare touch me in this point, Madam? Stir her against ye in whose hand your life lies? More than your life, your honour? what smug _Amazon_ Was that I brought you? that maid had ne're a petticoat? _Cal._ She'l half perswade me anon, I am a beast too, And I mistrust my self, though I am honest For giving her the Helm, thou knowest, _Clarinda_, (Ev'n in thy conscience) I was ever vertuous; As far from lust in meeting with _Lisander_, As the pure wind in welcoming the morning; In all the co[n]versation I had with him, As free, and innocent, as yon fair Heaven; Didst not thou perswade me too? _Clarin._ Yes, I had reason for't, And now you are perswaded I'le make use on't. _Cal._ If I had sin'd thus, and my youth entic'd me, The nobleness and beauty of his person, Beside the mighty benefits I am bound to, Is this sufficient warrant for thy weakness? If I had been a whore, and crav'd thy counsel In the conveyance of my fault and faithfulness, Thy secrecie, and truth in hiding of it; Is it thy justice to repay me thus? To be the Master sinner to compel me? And build thy lusts security on mine honour? _Cla._ They that love this sin, love their security; Prevention, Madam, is the nail I knock'd at, And I have hit it home, and so I'le hold it, And you must pardon me, and be silent too, And suffer what ye see, and suffer patiently; I shall do worse else. _Cal._ Thou canst not touch my credit: Truth will not suffer me to be abus'd thus. _Clarin._ Do not you stick to truth, she is seldom heard, Madam, A poor weak tongue she has, and that is hoarse too With pleading at the bars, none understand[s] her, Or if you had her, what can she say for ye? Must she not swear he came at midnight to ye, The door left open, and your husband cozen'd With a feign'd sickness? _Cal._ But by my soul I was honest, thou know'st I was honest.