Ant. Open the Door, I say.
Lor. Oh, ’tis a damnable leap out at this Balcony.
Isab. And yet you are a dead Man, if you see him.
Ant. Impudence, will you open the Door?
Isab. I will, Sir, immediately.
Lor. Devise some way to let me down,
Or I will throw thee out; no Ladder of Ropes, no Device?
—If a Man would not forswear Whoring for the future
That is in my condition, I am no true Gentleman.
Ant. Open, or I will break the Door.