Enter Don John, and Frederick.
Ant. Then leave your lying,
And your blind prophesying: here they come,
You had best tell them as much.
Pet. I am no tell-tale. [Exeunt.
John. I would we could have seen her though; for sure
She must be some rare Creature, or Report lies.
All mens Reports too.
Fred. I could well wish I had seen her;
But since she is so conceal'd, so beyond venture
Kept and preserv'd from view, so like a Paradise,
Plac'd where no knowledge can come near her; so guarded,
As 'twere impossible, though known, to reach her,
I have made up my belief.
John. Hang me from this hour
If I more think upon her, or believe her,
But as she came a strong Report unto me,
So the next Fame shall lose her.
Fred. 'Tis the next way;
But whither are you walking?
John. My old Round
After my meat, and then to Bed.
Fred. 'Tis healthful.
John. Will not you stir?