Enter Frederick.
Cur. Sir, you are welcome from Cloris’s Arms.
Fred. With much ado, I am got loose from those fair
Fetters, but not from those of her Beauty;
By these she still inflames me,
In spite of all my humours of Inconstancy;
So soft and young, so fair and innocent,
So full of Air, and yet of Languishment;
So much of Nature in her Heart and Eyes,
So timorous and so kind without disguise: