on, Burr.

_Isa_. Spare him not, Burr.

_Const_. Fear him not, servant.

_Fail_. Oh, oh! would nobody were on my side! here I am praised,
I vow to gad, into all the colours of the rainbow.

_Const_. But remember 'tis for me.

_Burr_. As you like this, proceed, sir; but, come not near me
to-night, while I'm in wrath.

[_Exeunt_ BURR _and_ TIMOROUS.

_Const_. Come, sir; how fare you after your sore trial? You bore
it with a most heroic patience.

_Isa._ Brave man at arms, but weak to Balthazar[A]!

[Footnote A: Alluding to the old play of Hieronymo.]

_Fail_. I hope to gad, madam, you'll consider the merit of my
sufferings. I would not have been beaten thus, but to obey that person
in the world--

_Const_. Heaven reward you for't; I never shall.

_Fail_. How, madam!

_Isa_. Art thou such an ass, as not to perceive thou art abused?
This beating I contrived for you: you know upon what account; and have
yet another or two at your service. Yield up the knight in time, 'tis
your best course.

_Fail_. Then does not your ladyship love me, madam?

_Const_. Yes, yes, I love to see you beaten.

_Isa_. Well, methinks now you have had a hard bargain on't: You
have lost your cully, Sir Timorous, and your friend, Burr, and all to
get a poor beating. But I'll see it mended against next time for you.

[_Exeunt_ CONSTANCE _and_ ISABELLA, _laughing_.

_Fail_. I am so much amazed, I vow to gad, I do not understand my
own condition. [_Exit_.

SCENE II.

_Enter_ LOVEBY _solus, in the dark, his sword drawn, groping
out his way_.

_Lov_. This is the time and place he pointed me, and 'tis
certainly the devil I am to meet; for no mortal creature could have
that kindness for me, to supply my necessities as he has done,
nor could have done it in so strange a manner. He told me he was
a scholar, and had been a parson in the fanatic's times: a shrewd
suspicion it was the devil; or at least a limb of him. If the devil
can send churchmen on his errands, lord have mercy on the laity! Well,
let every man speak as he finds, and give the devil his due; I think
him a very honest and well-natured fellow; and if I hear any man speak
ill of him, except it be a parson, that gets his living by it, I wear
a sword at his service. Yet, for all this, I do not much care to see
him. He does not mean to hook me in for my soul, does he? If he does,
I shall desire to be excused. But what a rogue am I, to suspect a
person, that has dealt