where I thought it
fitted, I have my end; more to enquire is curious in either of us, more
than that suspicious.

_Fran._ But gentle Lady, 'twill be necessary.

_Isab._ About the right way nothing, do not fright it, being to
pious use and tender sighted, with the blown face of Complements, it
blasts it; had you not come at all, but thought thanks, it had been too
much, 'twas not to see your person.

_Wid._ A brave dissembling Rogue, and how she carries it!

_Isa._ Though I believe few handsomer; or hear you, though I affect
a good tongue well; or try you, though my years desire a friend, that I
relieved you.

_Wid._ A plaguie cunning quean.

_Isab._ For so I carried it, my end's too glorious in mine eyes,
and bettered the goodness I propounded with opinion.

_Wid._ Fear her not, Sir.

_Isa._ You cannot catch me, Sister.

_Fran._ Will you both teach, and tie my tongue up Lady?

_Isa._ Let it suffice you have it, it was never mine, whilest good
men wanted it.

_Lan._ This is a Saint sure.

_Isa._ And if you be not such a one, restore it.

_Fran._ To commend my self, were more officious than you think my
thanks are, to doubt I may be worth your gift a treason, both to mine
own good and understanding, I know my mind clear, and though modesty
tells me, he that intreats intrudes; yet I must think something, and of
some season, met with your better taste, this had not been else.

_Wid._ What ward for that, wench?

_Isa._ Alas, it never touched me.

_Fran._ Well, gentle Lady, yours is the first money I ever took
upon a forced ill manners.

_Isa._ The last of me, if ever you use other.

_Fran._ How may I do, and your way to be thought a grateful taker?

_Isa._ Spend it, and say nothing, your modesty may deserve more.

_Wid._ O Sister will you bar thankfulness?

_Isa._ Dogs dance for meat, would ye have men do worse? for they
can speak, cry out like Wood-mongers, good deeds by the hundreds, I did
it that my best friend should not know it, wine and vain glory does as
much as I else, if you will force my merit, against my meaning, use it
in well bestowing it, in shewing it came to be a benefit, and was so;
and not examining a Woman did it, or to what end, in not believing
sometimes your self, when drink and stirring conversation may ripen
strange perswasions.

_Fran._ Gentle Lady, I were a base receiver of a courtesie, and you
a worse disposer, were my nature unfurnished of these fore-sights.
Ladies h