Debauch’d World as ’tis now, let them say
What they will of their primitive Virtue.
Fred. May not I see this Sister of thine, Lorenzo?
Lor. Yes, by Venus, shall you, Sir,
[An] she were my Mother.
Fred. But art sure thy Father will permit us?
Lor. My Father permit us!
He may do what he will when I am sober,
But being thus fortify’d with potent Wine,
He must yield obedience to my Will.