Have so disgraced him with my evil ways,
And so impoverisht him with my expenses,
Were you his friend, you scarcely can be mine.
And yet, were I to tell you all, perhaps
I were not all to blame.
Men. Come, tell me all;
’Tis fit that I should hear it.
Viol. I begin
To breathe again.
Lope. Then listen, sir. My father in his youth,