Scan. Why, now I like thee well.

Where shall we meet?

Lor. In the with-drawing Chamber, there I lye.

Scan. Goe then, Ile follow.

Lor. Ile put out the light.

Scan. No matter, I shall find the way i’ the darke.

Here was a strange discouerie but indeed,

What will not women blab to those they loue?

I am very loth to leaue my sport to night,

And yet more loth to lose that rich reward