Clown. It may be he knew not your mind, forsooth.
Dor. He knew my mind well enough.
Clown. Why then, it may be, he knew you could not hold out for the journey. Pray, do not set us all a-crying.
[Weeps.
Lod. Prythee, sweet birds-nie, be content.
Dor. Yes, yes, content! when you two leave my company!
No one comes near me; so that were it not
For modest simple Francis here——
Clown. As modest as a gib-cat at midnight. [Aside.
Dor. That sometimes reads
Virtuous books to me; were it not for him,
I might go look content.[135] But 'tis no matter,
Nobody cares for me.
Lod. Nay, prythee, Doll. Pray, gentlemen, comfort her. [Weeps.