Fred. Behold how the tears flow, or pity her
Or never more be call'd a man.
Jac. How's this? soft you, soft you my Masters: is't possible think you,
She should be in earnest?
Clo. Earnest? I in earnest: she's a fool to break so many sleeps,
That would have been sound ones, & venture such a fane, and
So much life, for e're an humorous asse i'th' world.
Fra. Why Clora? I have known you cry as much
For Julio, that has not half his worth,
All night you write and weep too much I fear,
I do but what I should.
Clora. If I do write,
I am answer'd Frank.
Fran. I would I might be so.
Jac. Good Frederick let me go, I would fain try
If that thing do not counterfeit.
Fred. Give me your Sword then.
Jac. No, but take my word,
As I am man, I will not hurt a creature
Under this roof, before I have deliver'd
My self, as I am now, into your hands,
Or have your full consent.
Fred. It is enough.