Tim.  Hey day, if her feet walke as fast as thy tongue, sh[e’s] far enough ere this time.  What a stir you make!  Were you, as shee is, with your sweet heart, you would [be] pursud, would you?  You would be hangd as soone.  Al[as], good gentlewoman, heaven speed her!

Ma.  You will not goe then?

Tim.  No, indeed, will I not. 
Her mother may be angry if she please. 
The time has bin she would as willingly
Bin at the sport her selfe as now her daughter. 
The ge[ntleman] shees gon with is a man,
And see theres no harme d[one], I warrant you.

Lov.  Ha, ha, gramercy, Timothy, thou hittst it right. Maudlin, goe to; should Tim here offer as much to you, ha, I beleave you would not lock your selfe up in my ladyes closett; goe to, and goe to.

[Exeunt.

Ma.  Udsme, my lady!

    Enter Lady.

Lady.  Lost, past redemption!  I pursue a fier
Which like the giddy Meteors that seduce
With their false light benighted travellers
Allures me to distruction.  To curse fate
Were to allow I feard it, and admit
Participation in me of that spiritt
I most detest, a womans.

Lov.  Please your good Ladyship.

Lady.  Yes, that you depart.—­ [Exit Alexander. 
What can he see in her more worthy love
Then is in me? shees but a picture drawne
By my dimensions, and men sooner fancy
The Substance then the Shaddow.  Oh, but shee
Is the true image not of what I am
But what I was, when like the spring I wore
My virgin roses on my cheeks.

Lov.  Madam, you seeme—­

Lady.  Angry at your impertinency; learne manners, leave me.

Lov.  She has coniurd downe my spirit:  these are immodest devills that make modest ladyes become strickers[118].  Ile out oth storme, take shelter in the cellar.  Goe to and goe to; tis better venter quarriling mongst those hogesheads.
                            [Exit Alexander.

Enter Maudlin [and Timothy.]

Ma.  Madam, your daughter—­

Lady.  Where is she?  Who? Clariana?

Ma.  The faire Belisea.

Enter Clariana.

Cla.  Did you call me, madam.

Lady.  Noe:  were you soe neere? begon againe,—­
Yet stay.—­Maudlin, avoid the Roome, and if you see
Mr. Thurston, entreat him hither. Timothy,
Find out my son and charge him to delay
The execution of my late comaund
Till I next speake with him. [Exeunt Mag. and Tim.
Clariana, you did what I comanded?

Cla.  Yes, on my Soule.

Lady.  But thou art ignorant Why with such violence I inioyn[e]d thee To leave thy Thurstons love?