_Elder Lo._ Yes indeed is't.

_Lady._ God give you joy.

_Elder Lo._ Amen.

_Wel._ I thank yo[u], as unknown for your good wish.
The like to you when ever you shall wed.

_Elder Lo._ O gentle Spirit!

_Lady._ You thank me? I pray
Keep your breath nearer you, I do not like it.

_Wel._ I would not willingly offend at all,
Much less a Lady of your worthie parts.

_Elder Lo._ Sweet, Sweet!

_La._ I do not think this woman can by nature be thus,
Thus ugly; sure she's some common Strumpet,
Deform'd with exercise of sin?

_Wel._ O Sir believe not this, for Heaven so comfort me as I am free from
foul pollution with any man; my honour ta'ne away, I am no woman.

_Elder Lo._ Arise my dearest Soul; I do not credit it. Alas, I fear her
tender heart will break with this reproach; fie that you know no more
civility to a weak Virgin. 'Tis no matter Sweet, let her say what she
will, thou art not worse to me, and therefore not at all; be careless.

_Wel._ For all things else I would, but for mine honor; Me thinks.

_Elder Lo._ Alas, thine honour is not stain'd,
Is this the business that you sent for me about?

_Mar._ Faith Sister you are much to blame, to use a woman, whatsoe're she
be, thus; I'le salute her: You are welcome hither.

_Wel._ I humbly thank you.

_Elder Lo._ Milde yet as the Dove, for all these injuries. Come shall we
goe, I love thee not so ill to keep thee here a jesting stock. Adue to the
worlds end.

_Lady._ Why whither now?

_Elder Lo._ Nay you shall never know, because you shall not find me.

_Lady._ I pray let me speak with you.

_Elder Lo._ 'Tis very well: come.

_Lady._ I pray you let me speak with you.

_Elder Lo._ Yes for another mock.

_Lady._ By Heaven I have no mocks: good Sir a word.

_Elder Lo._ Though you deserve not so much at my hands, yet if you be in
such earnest, I'le speak a word with you; but I beseech you be brief: for
in good faith there's a Parson and a licence stay for us i'th' Church all
this while: and you know 'tis night.

_Lady._ Sir, give me hearing patiently, and whatsoever I have heretofore
spoke jestingly, forget: for as I hope for mercy any where, what I shall
utter now is from my heart, and as I mean.

_Elder Lo._ Well, well, what do you mean?

_Lady._ Was not I once your Mistress, and you my Servant?

_Elder Lo._ O 'tis about the old matter.

_Lady._ Nay good Sir stay me out; I would but hear you excuse your self,
why you should take this woman,