Is not frequented by your Confessor, there lyes the danger.
Le. I ha’ confest to thee, from morne till night,
From night till morne againe, all my transgression.
Enter Nicanor.
Lis. Were I your Confessor, I know you would
Both sinne, and be confest.
Nic. Breake ope the doore.
Lis. By Heauen, we are betrai’d.
Le. Oh my deare Loue.
Lis. My thoughts presag’d as much.