Dar. Perhaps she’ll love him as little.
Ran. Gad, put it to the Trial, if you dare—if thou be’st generous, bring me to her, and whom she does neglect shall give the other place.
Dar. That’s fair, put up thy Sword—I’ll bring thee to her instantly.
Exeunt.
[Scene III.] A Tent.
Enter Chrisante and Surelove.
Chris. I’m not so much afflicted for my Confinement, as I am that I cannot hear of Friendly.
Sure. Art not persecuted with Daring?
Chris. Not at all; though he tells me daily of his Passion, I rally him, and give him neither Hope nor Despair,—he’s here.
Enter Daring, Fear. Rant. and Jenny.