Luc. I know I doo.
Lass. Do all I bid thee then.
Luc. Bid then as I may doo.
Lass. I bid thee leave mee.
Luc. That I cannot doo.
Lass. My hate.
Luc. My love.
Lass. My torment.
Luc. My delight.
Lass. Why do I straine to wearie thee with words? Speech makes thee live; Ile then with silence kill thee, Henceforth be deafe to thy words and dumbe to thy minde.