Ant. Yet (good Martine)
Mar. Come, come, I have mercy on ye:
You shall enjoy her in your dream (Antonio)
And I'll not hinder: though now I perswade my self.
Enter Aminta with a Letter.
Ant. Sit with perswasion down, and you deal honestly:
I will look better on her.
Mar. Stay, who's this, Friend?
Ant. Is't not the other Gentlewoman?
Mar. Yes, a Letter.
She brings [no] challenge sure: if she do (Antonio)
I hope she'll be a Second too; I am for her.
Ant. You are welcome Lady;
'Tis like our late rude passage has powr'd on us
Some reprehension.
Am. No I bring no anger,
Though some deserv'd it.