Oh my Sister!
_Abi_. O my Ladie help, help.
_Mar_. Run for some _Rosalis_!
_Elder Lo_. I have plaid the fine ass: bend her bodie, Lady, best,
dearest, worthiest Lady, hear your Servant, I am not as I shew'd: O
wretched fool, to fling away the Jewel of thy life thus. Give her more
air, see she begins to stir, sweet Mistress hear me!
_Lady_. Is my Servant well?
_Elder Lo_. In being yours I am so.
_Lady_. Then I care not.
_Elder Lo_. How do ye, reach a chair there; I confess my fault not
pardonable, in pursuing thus upon such tenderness my wilfull error; but
had I known it would have wrought thus with ye, thus strangely, not the
world had won me to it, and let not (my best Ladie) any word spoke to my
end disturb your quiet peace: for sooner shall you know a general ruine,
than my faith broken. Do not doubt this Mistris, for by my life I cannot
live without you. Come, come, you shall not grieve, rather be angrie, and
heap infliction upon me: I will suffer. O I could curse my self, pray
smile upon me. Upon my faith it was but a trick to trie you, knowing you
lov'd me dearlie, and yet strangely that you would never shew it, though
my means was all humilitie.
_All_. Ha, ha.
_Elder Lo_. How now?
_Lady_.
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