Is it? and when I was return'd thou knowst thou didst pursue it, till thou woundst me into such a strange and unbeliev'd affection, as good men cannot think on.
Gob.
This I grant, I think I was the cause.
Arb.
Wert thou? Nay more, I think thou meant'st it.
Gob.
Sir, I hate to lie, as I love Heaven and honesty, I did, it was my meaning.
Arb.
Be thine own sad judge, a further condemnation will not need, prepare thy self to dy.
Gob.