O. LUS. 'Fore God, you say well, she is so indeed;
The city doth admire her for these virtues.

O. ART. O, sir, you praise your child too palpably;
She's mild and chaste, but not admir'd so much.

O. LUS. Ay, so I say--I did not mean admir'd.

O. ART. Yes, if a man do well consider her,
Your daughter is the wonder of her sex.

O. LUS. Are you advis'd of that? I cannot tell,
What 'tis you call the wonder of her sex,
But she is--is she?--ay, indeed, she is.

O. ART. What is she?

O. LUS. Even what you will--you know best what she is.

ANS. Yon is her husband: let us leave this talk:[3]
How full are bad thoughts of suspicion;
I love, but loathe myself for loving so,
Yet cannot change my disposition.

FUL. _Medice, cura teipsum_.

ANS. _Hei mihi! quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis_.

[_Exeunt_ ANSELM and FULLER.