_Hare._ And we are fools, tame fools.

_Bell._ Come let's go seek him, he shall be hang'd before he colt
us basely. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Isabella, Luce.

_Isab._ Art sure she loves him?

_Luce._ Am I sure I live? and I have clapt on such a commendation
on your revenge.

_Isab._ Faith, he is a pretty Gentleman.

_Luce._ Handsome enough, and that her eye has found out.

_Isa._ He talks the best they say, and yet the maddest.

_Luce._ H'as the right way.

_Isa._ How is she?

_Luce._ Bears it well, as if she cared not, but a man may see with
half an eye through all her forced behaviour, and find who is her
_Valentine_.

_Isa._ Come let's go see her, I long to prosecute.

_Luce._ By no means Mistress, let her take better hold first.