Lord Av. The tyme of our appointment: you attend
Upon his knocks and give him free admittans;
Beinge entred, refer him into this place;
That doon, returne then to your Ladye's chamber
There locke your self fast in.
Mayde. My lorde, I shall.— Poore fryare, I feare theyl put thee to thy penance Before they have confest thee.
Lord Av. Come, withdrawe; The watchwoordes not yet given.
Enter the Fryar with a letter.
Fr. Jhon. 'Tis her owne pen, I knwe it, synce shee sett
Her hand to establishe our foundation,
And, sweete soule, shee hath writt a second tyme
To build mee upp anewe:—My Lord is ridd
A three dayes jorney, loose not this advantadge
But take tyme by the fore-topp. Yes I will
By the fore-topp and topp-gallant. At the posterne
Shee to whose hand you gave your letter, Fryar,
Attends for your despatch:—my busines
I hope shalbee despatcht then:—Fare you well,
Fayle mee this night and ever. I'l sooner forfett
All pleasures, hopes, preferments, with th'assurance
Of a longe lyfe blest with most happy howers,
Then this one night's contentment.
Mayde. Ha, who's theire? Fryar Jhon?
Fr. Jhon. The same: you, mystresse Millisent My Ladye's gentlewoman?
Mayde. I am the closett That treasures all her counsells.
Fr. Jhon. Is all cleare?
Mayde. As such a dark night can bee—to one, I feare, That scarce will looke on daye more.