Merits an Angels Pen to register.
Scan. Sir, you haue alter’d me, I thanke you for’t.
Mis. Oh! they are all the very pits of Sin,
Which men, for want of wisdome, fall into.
Scan. I see it, Sir, and will proclaime as much. |Exit Scan.|
Lor. Leaue me, Iago.
Iag. I’me gone, sweet Prince.
Lor. Tell me, thou iangling Mastiffe, with what feare
Dar’st thou behold that too much wronged Sex,
Whose Vertues thou hast basely slander’d?