Gan. I doe indeede,
And will with horror to thy wanton thoughts
Make thee confes it, that thy soule beinge easd
May fly away the sooner.
Gab. What you—
Gan. Fond woman, doe not trust me, there is deathe And undyssembld ruyne in my words. Make your prayrs quycklye.
Gab. I protest unto you, As I have contyence & a soule to save—
Gan. That's a fantastycke oathe; proceede, proceede.
Gab. I did not wryte thys letter nor have seene Richard synce it was wrytten: what was doone He & my mother wrought it.
Gan. Shall I beleive you? are you vertuous?
Gab. Examyne but the ende & then adjudge me.
Gan. Then my suspytyon proves a false conceyte,
And I am wondrous glad to have it so
Because it proves you honest. I am nowe
Agayne resolvd that Richard was a vyllayne,
And therefore am I gladd agayne, because
He hathe what he deservd & has no more.
Gab. He did deserve your seryous contempt And is rewarded with it.