[ACT II.]
A bed thrust out. Lodvico sleeping in his clothes; Dorothea in bed. Enter Clown leading in Francisco.
Fran. Softly, sweet Pambo: are we in the chamber yet?
Clown. Within a yard of my lady, and ye can be quiet.
Fran. Art sure my lord's asleep?
Clown. I know not; I'll go and ask him.
Fran. No, no, no, do not wake him; we are undone then, man.
Clown. Ha, ha, ha! now do I see cuckold-making is as ticklish a profession as coneycatching. My lord was so paid with healths at Court, he's fast enough.
Fran. But still I pursue wonder why my lady should prescribe this strange, nay wondrous desperate, way to her desires.