Elder Lo. I would she had told you your second should be hang’d too, and let that come about:  but this is very strange.

La. Faith Sir, consider all, and then I know you’le be of my mind:  if weeping would redeem him, I would weep still.

Elder Lo. But say that I were Loveless, And scap’d the storm, how would you answer this?

Lady. Why for that Gentleman I would leave all the world.

Elder Lo. This young thing too?

Lady. That young thing too, Or any young thing else:  why, I would lose my state.

Elder Lo. Why then he lives still, I am he, your Loveless.

Lady. Alas I knew it Sir, and for that purpose prepared this Pageant:  get you to your task.  And leave these Players tricks, or I shall leave you, indeed I shall.  Travel, or know me not.

Elder Lo. Will you then marry?

Lady. I will not promise, take your choice.  Farewell.

Elder Lo. There is no other Purgatorie but a Woman.  I must doe something. [Exit Loveless.

Enter Welford.

Wel. Mistress I am bold.

Lady. You are indeed.

Wel. You so overjoyed me Lady.

Lady. Take heed you surfeit not, pray fast and welcom.

Wel. By this light you love me extreamly.

Lady. By this, and to morrows light, I care not for you.

Wel. Come, come, you cannot hide it.

Lady. Indeed I can, where you shall never find it.

Wel. I like this mirth well Lady.

Lady. You shall have more on’t.

Wel. I must kiss you.

Lady. No Sir.

Wel. Indeed I must.

Lady. What must be, must be; I’le take my leave, you have your parting blow:  I pray commend me to those few friends you have, that sent you hither, and tell them when you travel next, ’twere fit you brought less bravery with you, and more wit, you’le never get a wife else.

Wel. Are you in earnest?

Lady. Yes faith.  Will you eat Sir, your horses will be readie straight, you shall have a napkin laid in the butterie for ye.

Wel. Do not you love me then?

Lady. Yes, for that face.

Wel. It is a good one Ladie.

Lady. Yes, if it were not warpt, the fire in time may mend it.

Wel. Me thinks yours is none of the best Ladie.

Lady. No by my troth Sir; yet o’ my conscience, You would make shift with it.

Wel. Come pray no more of this.

Lady. I will not:  Fare you well.  Ho, who’s within there? bring out the Gentlemans horses, he’s in haste; and set some cold meat on the Table.

Wel. I have too much of that I thank you Ladie:  take your Chamber when you please, there goes a black one with you Ladie.