Fran. It was my meaning, and such a husband, so loving, and so carefull, my youth, and all my fortunes shall arrive at—Hark you?
Isab. 'Tis strange you should be thus unmannerly, turn home again sirra, you had best now force my man to lead your way.
Lan. Yes marry shall he Lady, forward my friend.
Isab. This is a pretty Riot, it may grow to a rape.
Fran. Do you like that better? I can ravish you an hundred times, and never hurt you.
Short. I see nothing, I am asleep still, when you have done tell me, and then I'le wake Mistris.
Isab. Are you in earnest Sir, do you long to be hang'd?
Fran. Yes by my troth Lady in these fair Tresses.
Isab. Shall I call out for help?
Fran. No by no means, that were a weak trick Lady, I'le kiss, and stop your mouth.