Hyl. Kiss.
Thom. A Rope kiss ye,
Come, come, I stand o' thorns.
Hyl. Methinks her mouth still
Is monstrous rough, but they have ways to mend it,
Farewel.
Thom. Farewel, I'll fit ye with a wife, Sir.
Seb. Come, follow close, I'll see the end she aims at,
And if he be a handsome fellow, Launcelot,
Fiat, 'tis done, and all my 'state is setled. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Abbess, Cellide, and Nuns.
Ab. Come to your Mattins Maids; these early hours
My gentle Daughter, will disturb a while
Your fair eyes, nurtur'd in ease.
Cel. No, vertuous Mother,
'Tis for my holy health, to purchase which,
They shall forget the Child of ease, soft slumbers.
O my afflicted heart, how thou art tortur'd!
And Love, how like a Tyrant thou reign'st in me,
Commanding and forbidding at one instant;
Why came I hither, that desire to have
Only all liberty to make me happy?
Why did'st thou bring that young man home, O Valentine,
That vertuous Youth? why didst thou speak his goodness
In such a phrase, as if all tongues, all praises
Were made for him? O fond and ignorant!
Why didst thou foster my affection
Till it grew up to know no other Father,
And then betray it?
Ab. Can ye sing?