Laz. Oh that
Is answer’d far more easily. She’ll stand
All night beside the window to no purpose.
Ces. Why she must say my love was all pretence,
And her offended dignity vindicate,
Rejecting me for ever! Misery!
Laz. Dear me, sir, what is now become of all
About, ‘Thou dawning night, benighted day.’
‘Thou coachman sun!’ etceteretera?
Ces. Wilt thou be ever fool?