CAS. O, I'll haunt her till I make her stoop.
Come, come, my lord, this was to try her voice;
Let's in and court her; one of us shall speed.
AKER. Happy man[441] be his dole that misseth her, say I.
DUN. My weaker senses cannot apprehend
The means this stranger us'd to make her speak:
There is some secret mystery therein,
Conceal'd from Dunstan, which the heavens reveal,
That I may scourge this bold, blaspheming man,
Who holds religious works of little worth!
[Exeunt; manent CLINTON and FORREST.
FOR. Now, Captain Clinton, what think you of me?
CLIN. Methinks as yet the jest holds pretty well.
The one hath taught her to deny himself:
The other woo'd so long, he cannot speed.
FOR. This news will please young Musgrave.
CLIN. Marry will it,
And I will hasten to acquaint him with them:
Come, let's away.
[Exeunt.
Enter PARSON SHORTHOSE and GRIM the Collier.