Lisa. I am no Capuchin, why should not I go?
Alci. Take the Gentleman,
Come he may see the Gentlewoman too,
And be most welcom, I do beseech you take him.
Lis. By any means, I love to see a Gentlewoman,
A prettie wench too.
Clar. Well, Sir, we'll meet you,
And at the place: My service to the Lady.
Alci. I kiss your hand. [Exit.
Clar. Prethee read o're her Letter.
Lisander reads.
Monsieur,
I Know you have considered the dark sentence Olinda gave us, and that (however she disguis'd it) it pointed more at our swords edges than our bodies banishments; the last must injoy her: if we retire, our youths are lost in wandring; in emulation we shall grow old men, and feeble, which is the scorn of love, and rust of honour, and so return more fit to wed our Sepulchers, than the Saint we aim at; let us therefore make our journey short, and our hearts ready, and with our swords in our hands put it to fortune, which shall be worthy to receive that blessing, I'le stay you on the mountain, our old hunting place, this Gentleman alone runs the hazard with me, and so I kiss your hand.
Your Servant Lidian.