Lis. It comes on louder.
Kill me, and save your self; save your fair honour,
And lay the fault on me, let my life perish,
My base lascivious life, shoot quickly, Lady.
Cal. Not for the World, retire behind the hangings,
And there stand close—my husband, close, Lisander.
Enter Cleander with a Taper.
Clean. Dearest, are you well?
Cal. O my sad heart, my head, my head.
Clean. Alas, poor soul! what do you do out of your bed?
You take cold, my Calista; how do ye?
Cal. Not so well, Sir, to lie by ye, my Brothers fright—
Clean. I had a frightful dream too,
A very frightful dream, my best Calista;
Methought there came a Dragon to your Chamber,
A furious Dragon (Wife) I yet shake at it;
Are all things well?
Lis. Shall I shoot him?
Cal. No, all well, Sir,
'Twas but your care of me, your loving care,
Which always watches.