Fred. Hark now, John. [Constantia passes by.
John. I, marry, this moves something like, this Devil
Carries some metal in her gate.
Vec. I find ye,
You would see her face unvail'd?
Duke. Yes.
Vec. Be uncovered.
Duke. O Heaven!
Vec. Peace.
Pet. See how she blushes.
John. Frederick,
This Devil for my mony; this is she, Boy,
Why dost thou shake? I burn.
Vec. Sit still, and silent.