Pen. Prithee step, Lettice, and see what noise is that without.
Love. The noise is here, madam; 'tis I that make what you call noise. 'Tis I that claim aloud my right and speak to all the world the wrongs I suffer.
Pen. Cooling herbs, well steeped—a good anodyne at night, made of the juice of hellebore, with very thin diet, may be of use in these cases. [Both looking at him as disturbed.
Love. Cases! what cases? I shall downright run mad with this damned usage! Am I a jest?
Lett. A jest? No, faith, this is far from a merry madness. Ha! ha! ha!
Love. Harkee, Lettice, I'll downright box you. Hold your tongue, gipsy.
Lett. Dear madam, save me! Go you to him.
Pen. Let him take you.—Bless me, how he stares! Take her.
Lett. Pen. Take her. [Running round each other.