g rooms--

_Cel_. To th' Court wench?
Was it to th' Court thou saidst?

_Gov_. You'l find it so.

_Cel_. Stay, stay, this cannot be.

_Gov_. I say it must be:
I hope to find ye still the same good Lady.

_Cel_. To th' Court? this stumbles me: art sure for me wench,
This preparation is?

_Gov_. She is perilous crafty:
I fear too honest for us all too. Am I sure I live?

_Cel_. To th' Court? this cannot down: what should I do there?
Why should he on a suddain change his mind thus,
And not make me acquainted? sure he loves me;
His vow was made against it, and mine with him:
At least while this King liv'd: he will come hither,
And see me e're I goe?

_Gov_. Wou'd some wise woman
Had her in working. That I think he will not,
Because he means with all joy there to meet ye.
Ye shall hear more within this hour.

_Cel_. A Courtier?
What may that meaning be? sure he will see me
If he be come, he must: Hark ye good Governess,
What age is the King of?

_Gov_. He's an old man, and full of business.

_Cel_. I fear too full indeed: what Ladys are there?
I would be loth to want good company.

_Gov_. Delicate young Ladys, as you would desire;
And when you are acquainted, the best company.

_Cel_. 'Tis very well: prethee goe in, let's talk more.
For though I fear a trick, Fie bravely try it.

_Gov_. I see he must be cunning,
Knocks this Doe down. [_Exeunt_.

_SCENA III._

_Enter_ Lieutenant, _and_ Leontius, _Drums within_.

_Leo_. You shall not have your will, sirrah, are ye running?
Have ye gotten a toy in your heels? Is this a season,
When honour pricks ye on, to prick your ears up,
After your whore, your Hobby-horse?

_Lieu_. Why look ye now:
What a strange man are you? would you have a man fight
At all hours all alike?

_Leo_. Do but fight something;
But half a blow, and put thy stomach to't:
Turn but thy face, and do-make mouths at 'em.

_Lieu_. And have my teeth knockt out; I thank ye heartily,
Ye are my dear friend.

_Leo_. What a devil ails thee?
Dost long to be hang'd?

_Lieu_. Faith Sir, I make no suit for't:
But rather Fhan I would live thus out of charity,
Continually in brawling--

_Leo_. Art thou not he?
I may be cosen'd--

_Lieu_, I shall be discover'd.

_Leo_. That in the midst of thy most hellish pains,
When thou wert crawling sick, didst aim at wonders,
When thou wert mad with pain?

_Lieu_. Ye have found the cause out;
I had ne're been mad to fight els