Gon. 'Tis true, and if your Grace that hath the sway
Of the whole State, will suffer this lude sex,
These women, to pursue us to our homes,
Not to be prayd, no[r] to be rail'd away,
But they will woe, and dance, and sing,
And, in a manner, looser than they are
By nature (which should seem impossible)
To throw their armes, on our unwilling necks.
Duk. No more, I can see through your vissore, dissemble it no more.
Doe not I know thou hast us'd all Art,
To work upon the poor simplicitie
Of this yong Maid, that yet hath known none ill?
Thinkest that damnation will fright those that wooe
From oaths, and lies? But yet I think her chast,
And will from thee, before thou shalt apply
Stronger temptations, bear her hence with me.
Gond. My Lord, I speak not this to gain new grace,
But howsoever you esteeme my words,
My love and dutie will not suffer me
To see you favour such a prostitute,
And I stand by dumb; Without Rack, Torture,
Or Strappado, I[le] unrip my self:
I doe confess I was in company with that pleasing peece of frailtie, that we call woman; I doe confess after a long and tedious seige, I yielded.
Duke. Forward.
Gond. Faith my Lord to come quickly to the point, the woman you saw with me is a whore; An arrant whore.
Duke. Was she not Count Valores Sister?
Gond. Yes, that Count Valores Sister is naught.
Duk. Thou dar'st not say so.
Gond. Not if it be distasting to your Lordship, but give me freedome, and I dare maintain, she ha's imbrac'd this body, and grown to it as close, as the hot youthfull vine to the elme.