Eve. Come, you ha’ put Your ſelfe to a ſimple coyle here, and your freinds, [164] By dealing with new Agents, in new plots. 55
Mer. No more o’ that, ſweet couſin.
Eve. What had you To doe with this ſame Wittipol, for a Lady?
Mer. Queſtion not that: ’tis done.
Eve. You had ſome ſtraine ’Boue E-la?
Mer. I had indeed.
Eve. And, now, you crack for’t.
Mer. Do not vpbraid me.
Eve. Come, you muſt be told on’t; 60 You are ſo couetous, ſtill, to embrace More then you can, that you looſe all.
Mer. ’Tis right. What would you more, then Guilty? Now, your ſuccours.