_Ant._ Your gentle pardon: I vow my erring eies had almost cast you For one of the most mortal enemies That our Family has. _Ism._ I'm sorry, Sir, I am so like your foe: 'Twere fit I hasted From your offended sight. _Ant._ Oh, mistake not, It was my error, and I do confess it: You'll not believe you'r welcome; nor can I speak it; But there's my friend can tell you, pray hear him. _Mar._ Shall I tell her, Sir? I'm glad of the employment. _Ant._ A kinswoman to that beauty: _Am._ A kin to her, Sir, But nothing to her beauty. _Ant._ Do not wrong it, 'tis not far behind her. _Am._ Her hinder parts are not far off, indeed, Sir. _Mar._ Let me but kiss you with his ardor now, You shall feel how he loves you. _Ism._ Oh forbear: 'Tis not the fashion with us, but would you Perswade me that he loves me? _Mar._ I'll warrant you He dies in't: and that were witness enough on't. _Ism._ Love me Sir? can you tell me for what reason? _Mar._ Fie, will you ask me that which you have about you? _Ism._ I know nothing Sir. _Mar._ Let him find it then; He constantly believes you have the thing That he must love you for: much is apparent, A sweet and lovely beauty. _Ism._ So Sir; Pray you Show me one thing: Did he ne'r love before? (I know you are his bosom-Counsellor) Nay then I see your answer is not ready: I'll not believe you if you study farther. _Mar._ Shall I speak truth to you? _Ism._ Or speak no more. _Mar._ There was a smile thrown at him, from a Lady Whose deserts might buy him trebble, and lately He receiv'd it, and I know where he lost it, In this face of yours: I know his heart's within you. _Ism._ May I know her name? _Mar._ In your ear you may With vow of silence. _Am._ He'll not give over Sir: If he speak for you, he'll sure speed for you. _Ant._ But that's not the answer to my question. _Am._ You are the first in my Virgin-conscience That e'r spoke Love to her: oh, my heart! _Ant._ How do you? _Am._ Nothing Sir: but would I had a better face. How well your pulse beats. _Ant._ Healthfully, does it not? _Am._ It thumps prettily, methinks. _Ism._ Alack, I hear it With much pity: how great is your fault too, In wrong to the good Lady! _Mar._ You forget The difficult passage he has to her, A hell of feud's between the Families. _Ism._ And that has often Love wrought by advantage To peaceful reconcilement. _Mar._ There impossible. _Ism._ This way 'tis worser; 't may seed again in her Unto another generation: For where (poor Lady) is her satisfaction? _Mar._ It comes in me; to be truth, I love her (I'll go no farther for comparison) As dear as he loves you. _Ism._ How if she love not?