Wife. It is not honest in you to tempt woman;
When her distresses take away her strength.
How is she able to withstand her enemy?
Vot. I would fain leave your sight, an' I could possibly.
Wife. What is't to you, good sir, if I be pleased
To weep myself away; and run thus violently
Into the arms of death, and kiss destruction:
Does this concern you now?
Vot. Ay, marry, does it.
What serve these arms for, but to pluck you back?
These lips but to prevent all other tasters,
And keep that cup of nectar for themselves?
I'm[458] beguil'd again, forgive me, heaven?
My lips have been naught with her,
I will be master once, and whip the boy
Home to his mother's lap. [Aside.] Fare, fare thee well!
[Exit Votarius.
Wife. Votarius! Sir! my friend!—thank heaven, he's gone.
And he shall never come so near again,
I'll have my frailty watch'd ever; henceforward
I'll no more trust it single; it betrays me
Into the hands of folly. Where's my woman?
Enter Leonella.
My trusty Leonella!
Leo. Call you, madam?