Cloris, a while I’ll leave thee with thy Brother,

Till I have reconcil’d thee to my Father:

To marry me, is what he long has wish’d for,

And will, I know, receive this News with Joy. Exit Prince.

Lor. Here’s fine doings; what am I like to come to if he

Turn honest now? This is the worst piece of Inconstancy

He ever was guilty of; to change ones Humour, or so,

Sometimes, is nothing: but to change Nature,

To turn good on a sudden, and never give a Man

Civil warning, is a Defeat not be endur’d;