Isme. This Rogue mocks me. Well Timantus, Pray how have you sped here at [home] at shovelboord?
Tim. Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken in this Summer?
Isme. How many Stags have you been at the death of this grass?
Tima. A number: 'Pray how is the Province settled?
Isme. Prethee how does the dun Nag?
Tim. I think you mock me my Lord.
Isme. Mock thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what wouldst thou have me doe with thee? Art good for any thing else?
Enter Leontius, Bacha, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Telamon.
Leu. My good Ismenus, hold me by the wrist:
And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard,
For I shall swoon again else.— [Kneels.
Leon. Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee
Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell,
Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well:
She would not let me venture all my joy
Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her,
And none but thee, I took her on thy word.