Fred. She has sworn me
That none else shall come near her: not my Mother,
Till some few doubts are clear'd.
John. Not look upon her? What chamber is she in?
Fred. In ours.
John. Let's go I say:
A womans oaths are wafers, break with making,
They must for modestie a little: we all know it.
Fred. No, I'le assure you Sir.
John. Not see her?
I smell an old dog trick of yours, well Frederick,
Ye talkt to me of whoring, let's have fair play,
Square dealing I would wish ye.
Fred. When 'tis come,
(Which I know never will be) to that issue,
Your spoon shall be as deep as mine Sir.
John. Tell me,
And tell me true, is the cause honourable,
Or for your ease?
Fred. By all our friendship, John,
'Tis honest, and of great end.
John. I am answer'd:
But let me see her though: leave the door open
As ye go in.