I stand on thorns.

_Wid._ I prethee _Isabella_, i'faith I have some business that
concerns me, I will suspect no more, here, wear that for me, and I'le
pay the hundred pound you owe your Taylor.

_Enter_ Shorthose, Roger, Humphrey, Ralph.

_Isab._ I had rather go, but--

_Wid._ Come walk in with me, we'll go to Cards, unsaddle the
Horses.

_Short._ A Jubile, a Jubile, we stay, Boys.

_Enter_ Uncle, Lan. Foun. Bella. Harebrain _following_.

_Unc._ Are they behind us?

_Lan._ Close, close, speak aloud, Sir.

_Unc._ I am glad my Nephew has so much discretion, at length to
find his wants: did she entertain him?

_Lance._ Most bravely, nobly, and gave him such a welcome!

_Unc._ For his own sake do you think?

_Lance._ Most certain, Sir, and in his own cause bestir'd himself
too, and wan such liking from her, she dotes on him, h'as the command of