Syl. Ye may both, and let him but go with ye.
Char. Why do you flie me? what have I so ill about me, or within me, to deserve it?
Ang. I am going to bed, Sir.
Char. And I am come to light ye; I am a Maid, and 'tis a Maidens office.
Ang. You may have me to bed, Sir, without a scruple, and yet I am chary too who comes about me. Two Innocents should not fear one another.
Syl. The Gentleman says true. Pluck up your heart, Madam.
Char. The glorious Sun both rising and declining we boldly look upon; even then, sweet Lady, when, like a modest Bride, he draws nights curtains, even then he blushes, that men should behold him.
Ang. I fear he will perswade me to mistake him.
Syl. 'Tis easily done, if you will give your mind to't.
Ang. Pray ye to your bed.