A word of such a sound in a childs ears
That it strikes reverence through it; may the will
Of heaven be done, and if one needs must fall,
Take a poor Virgins life to answer all.

_ Ara_.

But _Gobrias_ let us talk, you know this fault
Is not in me as in another Mother.

_Gob_.

I know it is not.

_ Ara_.

Yet you make it so.

_Gob_.

Why, is not all that's past beyond your help?

_ Ara_.

I know it is.

_Gob_.

Nay should you publish it before the world,
Think you 'twould be believ'd?