Gentlew. Whther do you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lords pleasure I should be thus used, before my business be dispatched?
Arr. You shall know more of that without.
Oria. Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall promise; for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have them still hated by thee, and injoyn thee as a punishment, never hereafter willingly to come in the presence, or sight of any woman, nor never to seek wrongfully the publick disgrace of any.
Gond. 'Tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I [meddle] with them, for their good, or their bad; may Time [call] back this day again, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the pox, by their breath, and have no other pleasure for it.
Duke. Ye are [too] merciful.
Oria. My Lord, I shew'd my sex the better.
Gond. All is over-blown Sister: y'are like to have a fair night of it, and a Prince in your Arms: let's goe my Lord.
Duke. Thus through the doubtful streams of joy and grief, True Love doth wade, and finds at last relief. [Exeunt omnes.