Luc. Haile Virgin, (if you be) as those cheeke-Roses
Proclaime you are no lesse: can you so steed me,
As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
A Nouice of this place, and the faire Sister
To her vnhappie brother Claudio?
Isa. Why her vnhappy Brother? Let me aske,
The rather for I now must make you know
I am that Isabella, and his Sister

Luc. Gentle & faire: your Brother kindly greets you;
Not to be weary with you; he's in prison

Isa. Woe me; for what?
Luc. For that, which if my selfe might be his Iudge,
He should receiue his punishment, in thankes:
He hath got his friend with childe

Isa. Sir, make me not your storie

Luc. 'Tis true; I would not, though 'tis my familiar sin,
With Maids to seeme the Lapwing, and to iest
Tongue, far from heart: play with all Virgins so:
I hold you as a thing en-skied, and sainted,
By your renouncement, an imortall spirit
And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
As with a Saint

Isa. You doe blaspheme the good, in mocking me

Luc. Doe not beleeue it: fewnes, and truth; tis thus,