Lov. What's the matter, madam?
Isa. I'll tell you, if this gentlewoman will give me leave.
Franc. No, gentlewoman, I will not give you leave; they are such as we maintain your pride, as they say. [ISABELLA and LOVEBY whisper.] Our husbands trust you, and you must go before their wives. I am sure my good-man never goes to any of your lodgings, but he comes home the worse for it, as they say.
Lov. Is that all? pr'ythee, good landlady, for my sake entertain my friends.
Franc. If the gentleman's worship had come alone, it may be I might have entertained him; but for your minion!
Enter NONSUCH, FAILER, BURR, and Officers. Cry within, Here, here.
Fail. My lord, arrest Sir Timorous upon a promise of marriage to your daughter, and we'll witness it.
Tim. Why, what a strange thing of you's this, madam Isabella, to bring a man into trouble thus!
Fail. You are not yet married to her?
Tim. Not that I remember.