Clean. Where's your Mistriss?
Clar. She is above, but very ill, and aguish;
The late fright of her Brother has much troubl'd her:
She would entreat to lye alone.
Clean. Her pleasure.
Dor. Commend my love to her, and my Prayers for her health,
I'll see her ere I go. [Exeunt; manet Clarinda.
Clar. All good rest to ye;
Now to my watch for Lisander, when he is furnish'd,
For mine own friend, since I stand Centinel,
I love to laugh i'th' evenings too, and may,
The priviledg of my place will warrant it. [Exit.
Enter Lisander, and Lancelot.
Lis. You have done well hitherto; where are we now?
Lanc. Not far from the house, I hear by th' Owls,
There are many of your Welch falkoners about it;
Here were a night to chuse to run away with
Another mans Wife, and do the feat.
Lis. Peace Knave,
The house is here before us, and some may hear us;
The Candles are all out.