Io. I know not.
Asca. Where should I seeke her?
Io. I know not.
Asca. When shall I find her?
Io. I know not.
Asca. A vengeance take thee, slaue, what dost thou know?
Io. Marry, sir, that I doo know.
Asca. What, villiane?
Io. And[102] you be so testie, go looke. What a coyles here with you? If we knew where she were what need we seeke her? I think you are a lunaticke: where were you when you should haue lookt after her? now you go crying vp and downe after your wench like a boy that had lost his horne booke.
Asca. Ah, my sweet Boy!