Scene 23.
Enter the Lady Hypocondria, and Joan her Maid.
LAdy Hypocondria.
Pray Iuno, my Husband doth not perceive I have cry'd.
Ioan.
You need not fear it, for the hot Cloath you laid to your eyes hath so••'d out the redness, and abated the swelling thereof; but I doubt you will cry when you see him.
Hypocondria.
I hope I shall be wiser, than to cry; for I would not have my Husband think me a Fool, or troublesome, for the world.
Ioan.
But surely Madam, you must needs torment your Soul, to strive so much against nature.
Hypocondria.
Love had rather torment it self, then torment what it loves.
Ioan.
Your Ladyship will make the old Proverb good, which sayes, love overcomes all things, and surely it overcomes all when it overcomes nature it self.
Exeunt.