The things we do!

_Lady_. Peace you; a braineles weake, besotted fellowe!
But lett mee better recollect myself.
Madnes nor folly, and add lust to them,
Durst not in fury, heate, or Ignorans,
Have tempted my unquestioned chastity
Without a fowrth abetter, jealousy.
The more I ponder that, I more suspect
By that my Lord should have a hand in this,
And,[101] knowinge there's such difference in our yeares,
To proove my feythe might putt this triall on mee.
Else how durst such a poore penurious fryar
Oppose such an unheard of Impudens
Gaynst my incensed fury and revendge?
My best is therefore, as I am innocent,
To stooddy myne owne safety, showe this letter,
Which one [?] my charity woold have conceiled,
And rather give him upp a sacrifice
To my lord's just incensement then indanger
Myne owne unblemisht truthe and loyalty
By incurringe his displeasure; heare hee coms.
_Enter the Lord de Averne with som followers;
his man Denis_
_L. Averne_. Howe, Lady? reading?
_Lady_. Yes, a letter, sir.
_L. Averne_. Imparts it any newes?
_Lady_. Yes, syr, strange newes,
And scarce to bee beleaved.


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