I am so over-[joy'd], I'le fly to serve ye.
Am.
Take your joy moderately, as it is ministred,
And as the cause invites: that man's a fool
That at the sight o'th' Bond, dances and leaps,
Then is the true joy, when the mony comes.
Lean.
You cannot now deny me.
Ama. Nay, you know not,
Women have crotchets, and strange fits.