Theo. That's granted too.
Phil. But heark ye, heark ye Sister,
How came she thus disguis'd?
Theo. I'll tell you that too
As I came on the self-same ground, so us'd too.
Phil. By the same man?
Theo. The same too.
Phil. As I live
You lovers have fine fancies,
Wonderous fine ones.
Theo. Pray heaven you never make one.
Phil. Faith I know not,
But in that mind I am, I had rather cobble,
'Tis a more Christian Trade; pray tell me one thing
Are not you two now monstrous jealous
Of one another?
Theo. She is much of me
And has rayl'd at me most unmercifully
And to my face, and o' my conscience
Had she but known me, either she or I
Or both, had parted with strange faces
She was in such a fury.
Phil. Leocadia?
Do's she speak handsomly?