Leo. Would that would doe it:
If I knew where she lay now, with what honestie,
You having flung so main a mischief on her,
And on so innocent and sweet a Beauty,
Dare I present your visit?
Dem. I'le repent all: And with the greatest sacrifice of sorrow, That ever Lover made.
Leo. 'Twill be too late Sir: I know not what will become of you.
Dem. You can help me.
Leo. It may be to her sight: what are you nearer?
She has sworn she will not speak to ye, look upon ye,
And to love ye again, O she cries out, and thunders,
She had rather love—there is no hope—
Dem. Yes Leontius,
There is a hope, which though it draw no love to it,
At least will draw her to lament my fortune,
And that hope shall relieve me.
Leo. Hark ye Sir, hark ye: Say I should bring ye—
Dem. Do [not] trifle with me?
Leo. I will not trifle; both together bring ye, You know the wrongs ye' done.
Dem. I do confess 'em.