Dor. Fye, Palamede, I am a woman of honour.
Pala. I see you are; you have kept touch with your assignation: And before we part, you shall find that I am a man of honour. Yet I have one scruple of conscience—
Dor. I warrant you will not want some naughty argument, or other, to satisfy yourself.—I hope you are afraid of betraying your friend?
Pala. Of betraying my friend! I am more afraid of being betrayed by you to my friend. You women now are got into the way of telling first yourselves: A man, who has any care of his reputation, will be loth to trust it with you.
Dor. O, you charge your faults upon our sex! You men are like cocks; you never make love, but you clap your wings, and crow when you have done.
Pala. Nay, rather you women are like hens; you never lay, but you cackle an hour after, to discover your nest.—But I'll venture it for once.
Dor. To convince you that you are in the wrong, I'll retire into the dark grotto, to my devotion, and make so little noise, that it shall be impossible for you to find me.
Pala. But if I find you—
Dor. Ay, if you find me—But I'll put you to search in more corners than you imagine.
[She runs in, and he after her.
Enter Rhodophil and Melantha.