Lady. All we that are called Women, know as well as men, it were a far more noble thing to grace where we are grace't, and give respect there where we are respected: yet we practise a wilder course, and never bend our eyes on men with pleasure, till they find the way to give us a neglect: then we, too late, perceive the loss of what we might have had, and dote to death.
Enter Martha.
Mar. Sister, yonder's your Servant, with a Gentlewoman with him.
Lady. Where?
Mar. Close at the door.
Lady. Alas I am undone, I fear he is be[t]roth'd, What kind of woman is she?
Mar. A most ill favoured one, with her Masque on: And how her face should mend the rest I know not.
La. But yet her mind was of a milder stuff than mine was.
Enter Elder Loveless, and Welford in Womans apparel.
Lady. Now I see him, if my heart swell not again (away thou womans pride) so that I cannot speak a gentle word to him, let me not live.