Hare. And we are fools, tame fools.
Bell. Come let's go seek him, he shall be hang'd before he colt us basely. [Exeunt.
Enter Isabella, Luce.
Isab. Art sure she loves him?
Luce. Am I sure I live? and I have clapt on such a commendation on your revenge.
Isab. Faith, he is a pretty Gentleman.
Luce. Handsome enough, and that her eye has found out.
Isa. He talks the best they say, and yet the maddest.
Luce. H'as the right way.
Isa. How is she?