_Duk._ We thank you _Gondarino_, is it possible? Can belief lay hold on such a miracle, To see thee, one that hath cloyst'red up all passion, Turn'd wilfull votary, and forsworn converse with women, in company and fair discourse, with the best beauty of _Millain_? _Gon._ 'Tis true, and if your Grace that hath the sway Of the whole State, will suffer this lude sex, These women, to pursue us to our homes, Not to be prayd, no[r] to be rail'd away, But they will woe, and dance, and sing, And, in a manner, looser than they are By nature (which should seem impossible) To throw their armes, on our unwilling necks. _Duk._ No more, I can see through your vissore, dissemble it no more. Doe not I know thou hast us'd all Art, To work upon the poor simplicitie Of this yong Maid, that yet hath known none ill? Thinkest that damnation will fright those that wooe From oaths, and lies? But yet I think her chast, And will from thee, before thou shalt apply Stronger temptations, bear her hence with me. _Gond._ My Lord, I speak not this to gain new grace, But howsoever you esteeme my words, My love and dutie will not suffer me To see you favour such a prostitute, And I stand by dumb; Without Rack, Torture, Or Strappado, I[le] unrip my self: I doe confess I was in company with that pleasing peece of frailtie, that we call woman; I doe confess after a long and tedious seige, I yielded. _Duke._ Forward. _Gond._ Faith my Lord to come quickly to the point, the woman you saw with me is a whore; An arrant whore. _Duke._ Was she not Count _Valores_ Sister? _Gond._ Yes, that Count _Valores_ Sister is naught. _Duk._ Thou dar'st not say so. _Gond._ Not if it be distasting to your Lordship, but give me freedome, and I dare maintain, she ha's imbrac'd this body, and grown to it as close, as the hot youthfull vine to the elme. _Duk._ Twice have I seen her with thee, twice my thoughts were prompted by mine eye, to hold thy strictness false and imposterous: Is this your mewing up, your strict retirement, your bitterness and gaul against that sex? Have I not heard thee say, thou wouldst sooner meet the _Basilisks_ dead doing eye, than meet a woman for an object? Look it be true you tell me, or by our countries Saint your head goes off: if thou prove a whore, no womans face shall ever move me more. [_Exeunt. Manet Gondarino._ _Gond._ So, so, 'tis as 't should be, are women grown so mankind? Must they be wooing, I have a plot shall blow her up, she flyes, she mounts; I'll teach her Ladyship to dare my fury, I will be known, and fear'd, and more truely hated of women than an Eunuch. _Enter Oriana._ She's here again, good gaul be patient, for I must dissemble.