Our parents who restrain our liberty,
But take the course to make us sooner free,
Though all we gain be but new slavery;
We leave our fathers, and to husbands flee.
[Exeunt.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.—Don Diego's House.
Enter Monsieur de Paris, Hippolita, and Prue.
Mons. Serviteur, serviteur, la cousine. Your maid told me she watched at the stair-foot for my coming; because you had a mind to speak wit me before I saw your fader, it seem.
Hip. I would so, indeed, cousin.
Mons. Or-ça! or-ça! I know your affair. It is to tell me wat recreation you ade with Monsieur Gerrard. But did he come? I was afrait he would not come.