Gov. For ever lose ye Lady.
Cel. Lose me? wherefore? I hear of no such thing.
Gov. 'Tis sure it must be so: You must shine now at Court: such preparation, Such hurry, and such hanging rooms—
Cel. To th' Court wench? Was it to th' Court thou saidst?
Gov. You'l find it so.
Cel. Stay, stay, this cannot be.
Gov. I say it must be: I hope to find ye still the same good Lady.
Cel. To th' Court? this stumbles me: art sure for me wench, This preparation is?
Gov. She is perilous crafty: I fear too honest for us all too. Am I sure I live?
Cel. To th' Court? this cannot down: what should I do there?
Why should he on a suddain change his mind thus,
And not make me acquainted? sure he loves me;
His vow was made against it, and mine with him:
At least while this King liv'd: he will come hither,
And see me e're I goe?