MRS ART. Make haste again, I prythee. [_Exit_ PIPKIN.] Till I see him,
My heart will never be at rest within me:
My husband hath of late so much estrang'd
His words, his deeds, his heart from me,
That I can seldom have his company;
And even that seldom with such discontent,
Such frowns, such chidings, such impatience,
That did not truth and virtue arm my thoughts,
They would confound me with despair and hate,
And make me run into extremities.
Had I deserv'd the least bad look from him,
I should account myself too bad to live,
But honouring him in love and chastity,
All judgments censure freely of my wrongs.
[_Exit_.

_Enter_ YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR, YOUNG MASTER LUSAM, _and_ PIPKIN.

Y. ART. Pipkin, what said she when she sent for me?

PIP. 'Faith, master, she said little, but she thought
[The] more, for she was very melancholy.

Y. ART. Did I not tell you she was melancholy,
For nothing else but that she sent for me,
And fearing I would come to dine with her.

Y. LUS. O, you mistake her; even, upon my soul,
I durst affirm you wrong her chastity.
See where she doth attend your coming home.