Gra. Most certainly applied!
Hip. O brother, you forget our business.
Ven. And well-remember'd; joy's a subtle elf,
I think man's happiest when he forgets himself,
Farewell, once dry, now holy-water'd mead;
Our hearts wear feathers, that before wore lead.
Gra. I'll give you this—that one I never knew
Plead better for and 'gainst the devil than you.
Ven. You make me proud on't.
Hip. Commend us in all virtue to our sister.
Ven. Ay, for the love of heaven, to that true maid.
Ven. Why, that was motherly said.[101] [Exeunt.
Gra. I wonder now, what fury did transport me!
I feel good thoughts begin to settle in me.
O, with what forehead can I look on her,
Whose honour I've so impiously beset?
And here she comes—