Pan. True,
But for another: For the truth—
Arb. No more.
I’ll credit thee; I know thou canst not lie.
Thou art all truth.
Pan. But is there nothing else
That we may do, but only walk? Methinks,
Brothers and sisters lawfully
may kiss.
Arb. And so they may, Panthea; so will we;
And kiss again too; we were too scrupulous
And foolish, but
we will be so no more.
Pan. If you have any mercy, let me go
To prison, to my death, to anything;
I feel a sin growing upon my
blood,
Worse than all these, hotter, I fear, than yours.
Arb. That is impossible: what should we do?
Pan. Fly, sir, for Heaven’s sake.
Arb. So we must; away!
Sin grows upon us more by this delay.
[Exeunt several ways.