Jul. I love a story, and a walk by moonshine.
Fisc. Lend me your hand then, madam. [Takes her by the one hand.
Beam. But one, I beseech you then; I must not quit her so.[Takes her by the other hand. Exeunt.
Re-enter Harman Junior, and Isabinda.
Isab. Come, sir, which is the way? I long to see my love.
Har. Jun. You may have your wish, and without stirring hence.
Isab. My love so near? Sure you delight to mock me!
Har. Jun. 'Tis you delight to torture me; behold the man who loves you more than his own eyes; more than the joys of earth, or hopes of heaven.
Isab. When you renewed your friendship with my Towerson, I thought these vain desires were dead within you.
Har. Jun. Smothered they were, not dead; your eyes can kindle no such petty fires, as only blaze a while, and strait go out.