And. So I assure ye; this night at twelve a clock.
Mir. 'Tis neat and handsome; there are twenty Crowns due to thy project, Andrew; I've time to visit Charles, and see what Lecture he reads to his Mistris. That done, I'le not fail to be with you.
And. Nor I to watch my master— [Exeunt.
ACTUS IV. SCENA III.
Enter Angelli[n]a, Sylvia, with a Taper.
Ang. I'm worse than e'er I was; for now I fear, that that I love, that that I only dote on; he follows me through every room I pass, and with a strong set eye he gazes on me, as if his spark of innocence were blown into a flame of lust. Virtue defend me. His Uncle too is absent, and 'tis night; and what these opportunities may teach him—What fear and endless care 'tis to be honest! to be a Maid what misery, what mischief! Would I were rid of it, so it were fairly.
Syl. You need not fear that, will you be a child still? He follows you, but still to look upon you; or if he did desire to lie with ye, 'tis but your own desire, you love for that end; I'le lay my life, if he were now a bed w'ye, he is so modest, he would fall asleep straight.
Ang. Dare you venture that?
Syl. Let him consent, and have at ye; I fear him not, he knows not what a woman is, nor how to find the mystery men aim at. Are you afraid of your own shadow, Madam?
Ang. He follows still, yet with a sober face; would I might know the worst, and then I were satisfied.