Tho. As thine eyes, sweet Abbess.
Ab. I will be rul'd then.
Tho. Thus then and perswade her,
But do not juggle with me, if ye do Aunt.
Ab. I must be there my self.
Tho. Away and fit her.
Ab. Come Daughter, you must now be rul'd, or never.
Cell. I must obey your will.
Ab. That's my good Daughter. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Enter Dorothy, and Mary.