_Lang._ I promised thee I would not, and I was as good as my word. _Soqu._ Yet your word was better than your deed. But steal up into the little matted chamber o' the left hand. _Lang._ I prithee let it be the right hand. Thou leftest me before, and I did not like that. _Soqu._ Precious quickly.--So soon as my mistress shall be in bed I'll come to you. [_Exit_ SNUFFE. _Enter_ SEBASTIAN, LEVIDULCIA, _and_ CATAPLASMA. _Cata._ I wonder Fresco stays so long. _Sebas._ Mistress Soquette, a word with you. [_Whispers._ _Lev._ If he brings word my husband is i' bed I will adventure one night's liberty To be abroad.-- My strange affection to this man!--'Tis like That natural sympathy which e'en among The senseless creatures of the earth commands A mutual inclination and consent. For though it seems to be the free effect Of mine own voluntary love, yet I can Neither restrain it nor give reason for't. But now 'tis done, and in your power it lies To save my honour, or dishonour me. _Cata._ Enjoy your pleasure, madam, without fear, I never will betray the trust you have Committed to me. And you wrong yourself To let consideration of the sin Molest your conscience. Methinks 'tis unjust That a reproach should be inflicted on A woman for offending but with one, When 'tis a light offence in husbands to Commit with many. _Lev._ So it seems to me.-- Why, how now, Sebastian, making love to that gentlewoman? How many mistresses ha' you i' faith? _Sebas._ In faith, none; for I think none of 'em are faithful; but otherwise, as many as clean shirts. The love of a woman is like a mushroom,--it grows in one night and will serve somewhat pleasingly next morning to breakfast, but afterwards waxes fulsome and unwholesome. _Cata._ Nay, by Saint Winifred, a woman's love lasts as long as winter fruit. _Sebas._ 'Tis true--till new come in. By my experience no longer. _Enter_ FRESCO _running._ _Fres._ Somebody's doing has undone us, and we are like to pay dearly for't. _Sebas._ Pay dear? For what? _Fres._ Will't not be a chargeable reckoning, think you, when here are half a dozen fellows coming to call us to account, with every man a several bill[173] in his hand that we are not able to discharge. [_Knock at the door._ _Cata._ Passion o' me! What bouncing's that? Madam, withdraw yourself. _Lev._ Sebastian, if you love me, save my honour. [_Exeunt all except_ SEBASTIAN. _Sebas._ What violence is this? What seek you? Zounds! You shall not pass. _Enter_ BELFOREST _with the_ Watch. _Bel._ Pursue the strumpet [_Exit_ Watch]. Villain, give me way, Or I will make a passage through thy blood. _Sebas._ My blood will make it slippery, my lord, 'Twere better you would take another way. You may hap fall else. [_They fight. Both are slain._ SEBASTIAN _falls first._ _Sebas._ I ha't, i' faith. [_Dies._