Tom. By this light Dol,
Nothing but in the way of honesty.
Dor. Thou never knew'st that road: I hear your vigils.
Tom. Sweet honey Dol, if I do not marry her,
Honestly marry her, if I mean not honourably,
Come, thou shalt help me, take heed how you vex me,
I'le help thee to a husband too, a fine Gentleman,
I know thou art mad, a tall young man, a brown man,
I swear he has his maidenhead, a rich man.
Dor. You may come in to dinner, and I'le answer ye.
Tom. Nay I'le go with thee Dol: four hundred a year wench.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Michael, and Valentine.
Mich. Good Sir go back again, and take my counsel,
Sores are not cur'd by sorrows, nor time broke from us,
Pull'd back again by sighs.
Val. What should I do friend?