Isa. Brave man at arms, but weak to Balthazar[A]!
[Footnote A: Alluding to the old play of Hieronymo.]
Fail. I hope to gad, madam, you'll consider the merit of my sufferings. I would not have been beaten thus, but to obey that person in the world—
Const. Heaven reward you for't; I never shall.
Fail. How, madam!
Isa. Art thou such an ass, as not to perceive thou art abused? This beating I contrived for you: you know upon what account; and have yet another or two at your service. Yield up the knight in time, 'tis your best course.
Fail. Then does not your ladyship love me, madam?
Const. Yes, yes, I love to see you beaten.
Isa. Well, methinks now you have had a hard bargain on't: You have lost your cully, Sir Timorous, and your friend, Burr, and all to get a poor beating. But I'll see it mended against next time for you.
[Exeunt CONSTANCE and ISABELLA, laughing.