Leu. I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she is good I hope.
Ism. Are you so simple, to make so much of this?
Do you not know,
That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise
Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?
Ura. I, but ne'r Sir be afred;
For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can,
I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.
Leu. I should hate my self Ismenus;
If I should think of her simplicity,
Ought but extreamly well.
Ism. Nay, as you will.
Ura. And though she be my Mother,
If she take any caurse to do you wrong,
If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir:
And so I'll take my leave.
Leu. Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [Exit Urania.
Ism. You believe all this.
Leu. Yes.
Enter Timantus.