Sir Fr. 'Tis my desire;
I take no pleasure in a pilgrimage.
If you instruct a nearer way, 'tis in
Your will to save your eare the trouble of
My pleading, Madam, if with one soft breath
You say I'me entertain'd; but for one smile
That speakes consent you'le make my life your servant.
Lady. My husband, Sir—
Sir Fr. Deserves not such a treasure to himselfe And starve a noble servant.
Lady. You but pleade
For vanitie: desist, for if I could
(Forgetting honour and my modestie)
Allow your wild desires, it were impossible
That wee should meete more then in thought and shadowes.
Sir Fr. If these shadowes, Madam, be but darke enough,
I shall account it happines to meet you.
But referr that to opportunitie,
Which our kind starrs in pitty will sooner offer
To both our ioyes.
Lady. But he is very Jealous.
Sir Fr. That word assures my victorie; I never
Heard any wife accuse her husband of
Or cold neglect or Jealousie, but she had
A confirm'd thought within to trick his forehead—
It is but Justice, Madam, to reward him
For his suspitious thoughts.
Lady. D'ee thinke it fitt To punish his suspition yet perswade To act the sinne he feares?
Sir Fr. Custome and nature make it less offence
In women to comitt the deed of pleasure
Then men to doubt their chastity; this flowing
From poison'd natures, that excus'd by fraielty.
Yet I have heard the way to cure the scare
Has bin the deed; at truth the scruples vanish.
I speake not, Madam, with a thought to suffer
A foule breath whisper your white name; for he
That dares traduce it must beleeve me dead,
Or my fame twisted with your honour must not
Have pitty on the Accusers blood.
Device. I will attend you in the Countrey; I take my leave and kiss your ivory hand; Madam, and yours. Sir Francis, your obliged. [Exit.