Lel. You are deceiv'd, Sir, 'tis not against nature
For us to lye together; if you have
An Arrow of the same Tree with your Bow,
Is't more unnatural to shoot it there
Than in another? 'Tis our general nature
To procreate, as fire is to consume,
And it will trouble you to find a stick
The fire will turn from; If't be Natures will
We should not mix, she will discover to us
Some most apparent crossness, as our organs
Will not be fit; which, if we do perceive,
We'll leave, and think it is her pleasure
That we should deal with others.
Fath. The doors are fast, thou shalt not say a Prayer,
'Tis not Heavens will thou shouldst; when this is done
I'll kill my self, that never man may tell me
I got thee.
[Father draws his Sword, Angelo discovers himself.
Lel. I pray you, Sir, help her, for Heavens sake, Sir.
Ang. Hold, Reverend Sir, for honour of your Age.
Fath. Who's that?
Ang. For safety of your Soul, and of the Soul
Of that too-wicked woman yet to dye.
Fath. What art thou? and how cam'st thou to that place?
Ang. I am a man so strangely hither come,
That I have broke an Oath in speaking this,
But I believe 'twas better broke than kept,
And I desire your patience; let me in,
And I protest I will not hinder you
In any act you wish, more than by word,
If so I can perswade you, that I will not
Use violence, I'll throw my Sword down to you;
This house holds none but I, only a maid
Whom I will lock fast in as I come down.
Fath. I do not know thee, but thy tongue doth seem
To be acquainted with the truth so well,
That I will let thee in; throw down thy Sword.