I have your leave For a short absence ?--and your Katherine-- _Selby._ You'll find her in her closet-- _Mrs.F._ Fare you well, then.
[_Exit._ _Selby._ How like you her assurance?
_Lucy._ Even so well, That if this Widow were my guest, not yours, She should have coach enough, and scope to ride.
My merry groom should in a trice convey her To Sarum Plain, and set her down at Stonehenge, To pick her path through those antiques at leisure; She should take sample of our Wiltshire flints.
O, be not lightly jealous! nor surmise, That to a wanton bold-faced thing like this Your modest shrinking Katherine could impart Secrets of any worth, especially Secrets that touch'd your peace.

If there be aught, My life upon't,'tis but some girlish story Of a First Love; which even the boldest wife Might modestly deny to a husband's ear, Much more your timid and too sensitive Katherine.
_Selby_.

I think it is no more; and will dismiss My further fears, if ever I have had such.
_Lucy_.

Shall we go walk?
I'd see your gardens, brother; And how the new trees thrive, I recommended.
Your Katherine is engaged now-- _Selby_.

I'll attend you.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE .-- _Servants' Hall_.
HOUSEKEEPER, PHILIP, _and others, laughing_.
_Housekeeper_.