Col. There's all her virtue.
Luc. Pursu'd that full desire to give ye thanks Sir,
The only Sacrifice I have left, and service,
For all the virtuous care you have kept me safe with.
Col. She holds well yet.
Mir. The pretty fool speaks finely:
Come sit down here.
Luc. O Sir, 'tis most unseemly.
Mir. I'll have it so: sit close, now tell me truly,
Did you ere love yet?
Luc. My years will answer that Sir.
Mir. And did you then love truly?
Luc. So I thought Sir.
Mir. Can ye love me so?