Fran. Hear me, lady:
It is enough, my lord hath now a friend
In these dishonest days, that dares be honest.
Lod. How is this?
Clown. Nay, for thy lord, he's a mere coxcomb, Francis.
Lod. Out, rogue!
Fran. 'Tis but your bad desires that tell you so.
Can I contain a heart, or can that heart
Harbour a thought of injury 'gainst him
Under whose wing I safely stretch my pinions?
Has he not nobly entertain'd me? stand I not
Next neighbour, save yourself, unto his heart?
Lod. Ay, by this hand, dost thou.
Fran. And should I quit him thus? No, lady, no.
Lod. Brave Frank!
Fran. I am too wise to fall in love with woe,
Much less with wo-man. I but took advantage
Of my lord's absence for your trial, lady.
For fear some fellow (far hotter rein'd than I)
Might have sought [her] and sped: and I'd be loth
A lord so loving——
Lod. Shalt have five leases, by these fingers.