In whom kind nature suffer'd one offence
But to set off her other excellence.
Mont. Good father, leave us: interrupt no more
The course I must runne for mine honour sake.[25]
Rely on my love to her, which her fault
Cannot extinguish. Will she but disclose
Who was the secret minister of her love,
And through what maze he serv'd it, we are friends.
Fri. It is a damn'd work to pursue those secrets[30]
That would ope more sinne, and prove springs of slaughter;