Mon. I never see you now; you have been kinder; Page. Madam, I'd serve you with all my soul. Mon. Tell me, Cordelio (for thou oft hast heard Page. O madam! very wickedly they have talk'd: Mon. Fear not, Cordelio; it shall ne'er be known; Page. And truly, madam, I had rather be so. Mon. Inform me how thou'st heard Page. With all the tenderness of love, Mon. What, good Cordelio? Page. Not to quarrel for you. Mon. I would not have 'em, by my dearest hopes; Page. Yes, to seek you, madam. Mon. Am I then grown so cheap, just to be made Page. The fault was Polydore's. [exit. Mon. Then I am ruin'd! if Castalio's false, Cas. Madam, my brother begs he may have leave Mon. My lord Castalio! Cas. Madam! Mon. Have you purpos'd
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