And I forgive his lordship from my soule.
Mons. Then much good doo't thee, Pero! hast a letter?
Per. I hope it rather be a bitter volume
Of worthy curses for your perjury.
Gui. To you, my lord.
Mons. To me? Now out upon her! [145]
Gui. Let me see, my lord.
Mons. You shall presently: how fares my Pero? Enter Servant.
Who's there? Take in this maid, sh'as caught a clap,