Luce. Sir, these are quickly answered.
Hum. So they are,
Where women are not cruel; but how far
Is it now distant from the place we are in,
Unto that blessed place, your father's warren.
Luce. What makes you think of that, sir?
Hum. E'en that face,
For stealing rabbits whilome in that place,
God Cupid, or the keeper, I know not whether,
Unto my cost and charges brought you thither,