Exeunt.
Enter Nano, Dorothea, in mans apparell. IV. iv.
Doro. Ah Nano, I am wearie of these weedes,
Wearie to weeld this weapon that I bare:
Wearie of loue, from whom my woe proceedes.
Wearie of toyle, since I haue lost my deare,
O wearie life, where wanted no distresse,
But euery thought is paide with heauinesse.
Na. Too much of wearie madame, if you please, 1750
Sit downe, let wearie dye, and take your ease.
Dorot. How looke I Nano like a man or no?
Nano. If not a man, yet like a manlie shrowe.
Doro. If any come and meete vs on the way,
What should we do if they inforce vs stay.
Na. Set cap a huffe, and challenge him the field,
Suppose the worst, the weake may fight to yeeld.
Dorot. The battaile Nano in this troubled minde,
Is farre more fierce then euer we may finde.
The bodies wounds by medicines may be eased, 1760
But griefes of mindes, by salues are not appealed.
Na. Say Madame, will you heare your Nano sing?