Act IV, Scene XIII
[To them] FOIBLE.
FOIB. Madam, the dancers are ready, and there's one with a letter, who must deliver it into your own hands.
LADY. Sir Rowland, will you give me leave? Think favourably, judge candidly, and conclude you have found a person who would suffer racks in honour's cause, dear Sir Rowland, and will wait on you incessantly.