Pas. The more I admire your flintiness:
What cause have I given you, illustrious Madam,
To play this strange part with me?
1 Gent. Cause enough,
Do but look back Sir, into your memory,
Your love to other women, oh lewd man:
'Tas almost kill'd my heart, you see I'm chang'd with it,
I ha' lost the fashion of my Sex with grief on't,
When I have seen you courting of a Dowdie;
Compar'd with me, and kissing your fore-finger
To one o'th' Black-Guards Mistresses: would not this
Crack a poor Ladies heart, that believ'd love,
And waited for the comfort? but 'twas said, Sir,
A Lady of my hair cannot want pittying:
The Countrey's coming up, farewel to you Sir.
Pas. Whither intend you, Sir?
1 Gent. A long journey, Sir:
The truth is, I'm with child, and goe to travel.
Pas. With child? I never got it.
1 Gent. I heard you were busie
At the same time, Sir, and was loth to trouble you.
Pas. Why, are not you a whore then, excellent Madam?
1 Gent. Oh by no means, 'twas done Sir in the state
Of my belief in you, and that quits me;
It lies upon your falshood.
Pas. Does it so?
You shall not carry her though Sir, she's my contract.
Sham. I prethee, thou four Elements ill brued,
Torment none but thy self; away I say
Thou beast of passion, as the drunkard is
The beast of Wine; dishonor to thy making,
Thou man in fragments.