Short. Here's nothing but a stall, and a Butcher's Dog asleep in't, where did you see the voice?
Fran. She looks still angry.
Lan. To her and meet Sir.
Isab. Here, here.
Fran. Yes Lady, never bless your self, I am but a man, and like an honest man, now I will thank you—
Isab. What do you mean, who sent for you, who desired you?
Short. Shall I put out the Torch forsooth?
Isab. Can I not go about my private meditations, Ha, but such companions as you must ruffle me? you had best go with me Sir?
Fran. 'Twas my purpose.
Isab. Why, what an impudence is this! you had best, being so near the Church, provide a Priest, and perswade me to marry you.