_Theo._ The very same. _Phil._ The Damsel _Leocadia_ I ghest it was a woman, and a fair one I see it through her shape, transparent plain But that it should be she; tell me directly. _Theo._ By heavens 'tis she. _Phil._ By heaven then 'tis a sweet one. _Theo._ That's granted too. _Phil._ But heark ye, heark ye Sister, How came she thus disguis'd? _Theo._ I'll tell you that too As I came on the self-same ground, so us'd too. _Phil._ By the same man? _Theo._ The same too. _Phil._ As I live You lovers have fine fancies, Wonderous fine ones. _Theo._ Pray heaven you never make one. _Phil._ Faith I know not, But in that mind I am, I had rather cobble, 'Tis a more Christian Trade; pray tell me one thing Are not you two now monstrous jealous Of one another? _Theo._ She is much of me And has rayl'd at me most unmercifully And to my face, and o' my conscience Had she but known me, either she or I Or both, had parted with strange faces She was in such a fury. _Phil. Leocadia?_ Do's she speak handsomly? _Theo._ Wondrous well Sir And all she do's becomes her, even her anger. _Phil._ How seemed she when you found her? _Theo._ Had you seen How sweetly fearful her pretty self Betray'd her self, how neat her sorrow show'd, And in what handsome phrase she put her story, And as occasion stirr'd her how she started Though roughly, yet most aptly into anger You would have wonder'd. _Phil._ Do's she know ye? _Theo._ No, Nor must not by no means. _Phil._ How stands your difference? _Theo._ I'll tell ye that some fitter time, but trust me My _Mark-antonio_ has too much to answer. _Phil._ May I take knowledge of her? _Theo._ Yes she is willing. _Phil._ Pray use her as she is, with all respects then, For she is a woman of a noble breeding. _Theo._ Ye shall not find me wanting. _Phil._ Which way bears she? _Theo._ Our way, and to our end. _Phil._ I am glad on't; hark ye, She keeps her shape? [_Enter_ Leocadia. _Theo._ Yes, and I think by this time Has mew'd her old. _Phil._ She is here: by heaven a rare one, An admirable sweet one, what an eye Of what a full command she bears, how gracious All her aspect shows; bless me from a feaver I am not well o'th suddain. _Leoc._ Noble friends Your meat and all my service waits upon ye. _Phil._ Ye teach us manners Lady; all which service Must now be mine to you, and all too poor too; Blush not, we know ye, for by all our faiths With us your honor is in sanctuary And ever shall be. _Leoc._ I do well believe it, Will ye walk nearer Sir. [_Exit._