Fred. Thou tell'st me,
To my imagination, things incredible:
I see no loose thought in her.
John. That's all one,
She is loose i'th' hilts by heaven: but the world must know
A fair way, upon vow of marriage.
Fred. There may be such a slip.
John. And will be, Frederick,
Whil'st the old game's a foot: I fear the boy
Will prove hers too I took up.
Fred. Good circumstance
May cure all this yet.
John. There thou hitst it, Frederick:
Come, let's walk in and comfort her: her being here
Is nothing yet suspected: anon I'le tell thee
Wherefore her Brother came, who by this light
Is a brave noble fellow, and what honour
H'as done to me a stranger: there be Irons
Heating for some, will hiss into their heart blouds,
E're all be ended; so much for this time.
Fred. Well Sir. [Exeunt.
[Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.]
Enter Land-lady, and Peter.