Ali. You shall be well then,
And suddenly, and soundly well.
Ma. This Air, Sir,
Having now season'd ye, will keep ye ever.
Tho. No, no, I have no hope, nor is it fit friends,
My life has been so lewd, my loose condition,
Which I repent too late, so lamentable,
That any thing but curses light upon me,
Exorbitant in all my wayes.
Ali. Who's that, Sir,
Another sick man?
Ma. Sure I know that voice well.
Tho. In all my courses, careless disobedience.
Fran. What a strange fellow's this?
Tho. No counsel friends,
No look before I leapt.
Ali. Do you know the voyce, Sir?
Fra. Yes, 'tis a Gentlemans that's much afflicted
In's mind: great pity Ladies.