_Le._ Oh, you were too aduentrous, dearest Loue, What made you vndertake this hard attempt? _Lis._ Your loue, sweet Lady, That makes all things easie. _Le._ Oh, I am made immortall with thy sight: Here let me euer liue: I feare not now The worst that Fate or Malice can afflict: I haue enough, hauing thy companie. _Lis._ And when I leaue to loue you, vertuous Madame, Vpon that minute, let me leaue to liue, That loue and life may both expire together. _Lor._ Come, leaue your prating and protesting, And get you both in, and be naught awhile. ’Tis dangerous talking here in publike, Good Frier, look my Ladie dye no Nun. _Exit Le. & Lis._ Heigho! now could I wish my Sweet-heart Heere too, I feele such a tickling, somewhere About me: if he were here now, I would Neuer cast such an vnwilling deniall vpon him As I haue done, hauing so good a president as I haue. But stay, who’s this? As true as I liue, ’tis he. Oh, sweet Rogue, thou art come In the happiest minute. _Enter_ SCANFARDO. _Scan._ Am I, _Loretta_? Masse, I like that well. What, all alone? I like that better too. But where’s the Princesse? _Lor._ Oh, she’s safe enough! _Scan._ Is she indeed? I like that best of all. _Lor._ And so do’s shee, I warrant yee, Or any woman else, that’s in her Case: ha, ha, ha! _Scan._ There’s something in the wind now, that you laugh at. _Lor._ Nothing indeed, sweet Loue: but ha, ha! I laugh at an odde Iest. _Scan._ Come, I must know’t. _Lor._ 'Deed but you must not. _Scan._ Why? Dare you not trust me? _Lor._ Yes, I dare: but As you are a man, reueale it not. _Scan._ In troth, Ime angry, that you should mistrust me. _Lor._ The Frier, the Frier: ha, ha, ha! He that the Lord imploy’d to be his Agent, Who doe you thinke it was? _Scan._ Father _Anthonie_, wast not? _Lor._ The Deuill it was: no faith, It was, ha, ha, ha! It was no other, then _Lisandro_ Prince of _Naples_, That stole to my Lady in that Habit, And guld your Lord most palpably. _Scan._ Is’t possible? And where are they now? _Lor._ Why? faith th’are eu’n at, Ha, ha, ha, ha! But good Sweet-heart, be silent. _Scan._ Not a syllable I: it was a bold attempt, Knowing ’twas death, if but discouered once. But come, Sweet-heart, weele eu’n doe, As our betters haue done before vs, The example is easly followed, Hauing so good a Schoole-mistris. Shall we to bed? _Lor._ Fye, seruant, how you talke? Troth you are to blame, to offer to assault The chastitie of any Gentlewoman, Vpon aduantage. _Scan._ Pox, leaue this forc’d modesty: for by this hand, I must enioy you now before we part. _Lor._ I haue so farre ingag’d my selfe, you know, ’Tis now vaine to resist. _Scan._ Why, now I like thee well. Where shall we meet? _Lor._ In the with-drawing Chamber, there I lye. _Scan._ Goe then, Ile follow.