Chapter CIV: Act I: Scene I.3504

_Enter_ Monsieur DE GARD _and a_ Foot-boy.

_De Gard._ Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my horse well,
And let him want no litter.

_F. Boy._ I am sure I have run hard;
Would somebody would walk me, and see me litter’d,
For I think my fellow-horse cannot in reason 5
Desire more rest, nor take up his chamber before me:
But we are the beasts now, and the beasts are our masters.

_De Gard._ When you have done, step to the ten-crown ordinary——

_F. Boy._ With all my heart, sir; for I have a twenty-crown stomach.

_De Gard._ And there bespeak a dinner.

_F. Boy._ [_going._] Yes, sir, presently.[3505] 10

_De Gard._ For whom, I beseech you, sir?

_F. Boy._ For myself, I take it, sir.

_De Gard._ In truth, you shall not take it; ’t is not meant for you.
There’s for your provender. [_Gives money._] Bespeak a dinner
For Monsieur Mirabel and his companions;
They’ll be in town within this hour. When you have done, sirrah, 15
Make ready all things at my lodging for me,
And wait me there.

_F. Boy._ The ten-crown ordinary?

_De Gard._ Yes, sir, if you have not forgot it.

_F. Boy._ I’ll forget my feet first:
’T is the best part of a footman’s faith. _Exit._

_De Gard._ These youths, 20
For all they have been in Italy to learn thrift,
And seem to wonder at men’s lavish ways,
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
They must meet sometimes to disport their bodies
With good wine and good women, and good store too. 25
Let ’em be what they will, they are arm’d at all points,
And then hang saving, let the sea grow high!
This ordinary can fit ’em of all sizes.
_Enter_ LA CASTRE _and_ ORIANA.
They must salute their country with old customs.

_Ori._ Brother!

_De Gard._ My dearest sister!

_Ori._ Welcome, welcome! 30
Indeed, ye are welcome home, most welcome!

_De Gard._ Thank ye.
You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana
(Blush at your faults): I am wondrous glad to see ye.—
Monsieur La Castre, let not my affection
To my fair sister make me be held unmannerly.
I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty, 36
Good health about ye, and in fair company;
Believe me, I am proud——

_La Cast._ Fair sir, I thank ye.
Monsieur De Gard, you are welcome from your journey;
Good men have still good welcome. Give me your hand, sir, 40
Once more, you are welcome home. You look still younger.

_De Gard._ Time has no leisure to look after us;
We wander every where; Age cannot find us.

_La Cast._ And how does all?

_De Gard._ All well, sir, and all lusty.

_La Cast._ I hope my son be so. I doubt not, sir, 45
But you have often seen him in your journeys,
And bring me some fair news.

_De Gard._ Your son is well, sir.
And grown a proper gentleman; he is well and lusty.
Within this eight hours I took leave of him,
And over-hied him, having some slight business
That forc’d me out o’ th’ way. I can assure you, 51
He will be here to-night.

_La Cast._ Ye make me glad, sir,
For, o’ my faith, I almost long to see him.
Methinks, he has been away——

_De Gard._ ’T is but your tenderness.
What are three years? A love-sick wench will allow it. 55
His friends that went out with him are come back too,
Belleur and young Pinac. He bid me say little,
Because he means to be his own glad messenger.

_La Cast._ I thank ye for this news, sir. He shall be welcome,
And his friends too; indeed, I thank you heartily. 60
And how (for I dare say you will not flatter him)
Has Italy wrought on him? Has he mew’d[3506] yet
His wild fantastic toys? They say that climate
Is a great purger of those humorous fluxes.
How is he improved, I pray ye?

_De Gard._ No doubt, sir, well; 65
H’as borne himself a full and noble gentleman:
To speak him farther is beyond my charter.

_La Cast._ I am glad to hear so much good. Come, I see
You long to enjoy your sister; yet I must entreat ye,
Before I go, to sup with me to-night, 70
And must not be deni’d.

_De Gard._ I am your servant.

_La Cast._ Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble company;
My neighbour Nantolet and his two fair daughters.

_De Gard._ Your supper’s season’d well, sir; I shall wait upon ye.

_La Cast._ Till then I ’ll leave ye; and y’ are once more welcome.
_Exit._ 75

_De Gard._ I thank ye, noble sir! Now, Oriana,
How have ye done since I went? Have ye had your health well?
And your mind free?

_Ori._ You see, I am not bated;
Merry, and eat my meat.

_De Gard._ A good preservative.
And how have you been us’d? You know, Oriana, 80
Upon my going out, at your request,
I left your portion in La Castre’s hands,
The main means you must stick to. For that reason,
And ’t is no little one, I ask ye, sister,
With what humanity he entertains ye, 85
And how ye find his courtesy?

_Ori._ Most ready.
I can assure you, sir, I am us’d most nobly.

_De Gard._ I am glad to hear it; but, I prithee, tell me
And tell me true, what end had you, Oriana,
In trusting your money here? He is no kinsman, 90
Nor any tie upon him of a guardian;
Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality.

_Ori._ No, certain, sir; none of all this provoked[3507] me;
Another private reason.

_De Gard._ ’Tis not private,
Nor carried so; ’t is common, my fair sister;
Your love to Mirabel: your blushes tell it. 96
’Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;
And with no little shame I wonder at it.

_Ori._ Is it a shame to love?

_De Gard._ To love undiscreetly:
A virgin should be tender of her honour, 100
Close, and secure.

_Ori._ I am as close as can be,
And stand upon as strong and honest guards too;
Unless this warlike age need a portcullis:
Yet I confess, I love him.

_De Gard._ Hear the people.

_Ori._ Now, I say, hang the people! He that dares 105
Believe what they say dares be mad, and give
His mother, nay, his own wife, up to rumour.
All grounds of truth they build on is a tavern,
And their best censure’s sack, sack in abundance; 109
For, as they drink, they think: they ne’er speak modestly,
Unless the wine be poor, or they want money.
Believe them! Believe _Amadis de Gaul_,
_The Knight o’ the Sun_, or _Palmerin of England_;
For these, to them, are modest and true stories.
Pray, understand me; if their tongues be truth,
And if _in vino veritas_ be an oracle, 116
What woman is, or has been ever, honest?
Give ’em but ten round cups, they’ll swear Lucretia
Died not for want of power to resist Tarquin,
But want of pleasure, that he stay’d no longer;
And Portia, that was famous for her piety 121
To her lov’d lord, they ’ll face ye out, died o’ th’ pox.

_De Gard._ Well, there is something, sister.

_Ori._ If there be, brother,
’T is none of their things; ’t is not yet so monstrous:
My thing is marriage; and, at his return, 125
I hope to put their squint eyes right again.

_De Gard._ Marriage? ’T is true his father is a rich man,
Rich both in land and money; he his heir,
A young and handsome man, I must confess, too;
But of such qualities, and such wild flings, 130
Such admirable imperfections, sister,
(For all his travel and bought experience,)
I should be loth to own him for my brother.
Methinks, a rich mind in a state indifferent
Would prove the better fortune.

_Ori._ If he be wild, 135
The reclaiming him to good and honest, brother,
Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,
Shall be the study of my love, and life too.

_De Gard._ Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too!
He marry! He’ll be hanged first. He knows no more 140
What the conditions and the ties of love are,
The honest purposes and grounds of marriage,
Nor will know, nor be ever brought t’ endeavour,
Than I do how to build a church. He was ever
A loose and strong defier of all order; 145
His loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,
And taste each dish, but are no residents.
Or say, he may be brought to think of marriage,
(As ’t will be no small labour), thy hopes are strangers. 149
I know there is a labour’d match now follow’d,
Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too.
Be not abus’d:[3508] Nantolet has two fair daughters,
And he must take his choice.

_Ori._ Let him take freely.
For all this I despair not: my mind tells me
That I, and only I, must make him perfect; 155
And in that hope I rest.

_De Gard._ Since y’ are so confident,
Prosper your hope! I’ll be no adversary;
Keep yourself fair and right, he shall not wrong ye.

_Ori._ When I forget my virtue, no man know me! _Exeunt._

SCENE II.[3509]

_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, _and_ Servants.

_Mir._ Welcome to Paris, once more, gentlemen!
We have had a merry and a lusty ordinary,
And wine, and good meat, and a bouncing reckoning;
And let it go for once; ’t is a good physic.
Only the wenches are not for my diet; 5
They are too lean and thin, their embraces brawn-fallen.[3510]
Give me the plump Venetian, fat and lusty,
That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,
As if a cup of full wine leap’d to kiss me,
These slight things I affect not.

_Pin._ They are ill-built; 10
Pin-buttocked,[3511] like your dainty Barbaries,[3512]
And weak i’ the pasterns; they’ll endure no hardness.

_Mir._ There’s nothing good or handsome bred amongst us;
Till we are travell’d, and live abroad, we are coxcombs.
Ye talk of France—a slight unseason’d country, 15
Abundance of gross food, which makes us blockheads.
We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses:—
Men say, we are great courtiers,—men abuse us;
We are wise, and valiant too,—_non credo, signor_;
Our women the best linguists,—they are parrots; 20
O’ this side the Alps they are nothing but mere drolleries.[3513]
Ha! _Roma la Santa_, Italy for my money!
Their policies, their customs, their frugalities,
Their courtesies so open, yet so reserv’d too,
As, when you think y’ are known best, ye are a stranger. 25
Their very pick-teeth[3514] speak more man than we do,
And season of more salt.

_Pin._ ’T is a brave country;
Not pester’d with your stubborn precise puppies,
That turn all useful and allow’d contentments
To scabs and scruples—hang ’em, capon-worshippers. 30

_Bel._ I like that freedom well, and like their women too,
And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,
So naturally an ass! Look ye, I can look upon ’em,
And very willingly I go to see ’em, 34
(There ’s no man willinger), and I can kiss ’em,
And make a shift——

_Mir._ But, if they chance to flout, ye,
Or say, “Ye are too bold! Fie, sir, remember!
I pray, sit farther off——”

_Bel._ ’T is true—I am humbled,
I am gone; I confess ingenuously, I am silenced;
The spirit of amber[3515] cannot force me answer. 40

_Pin._ Then would I sing and dance——

_Bel._ You have wherewithal, sir.

_Pin._ And charge her up again.

_Bel._ I can be hang’d first:
Yet, where I fasten well, I am a tyrant.

_Mir._ Why, thou dar’st fight?

_Bel._ Yes, certainly, I dare fight,
And fight with any man at any weapon. 45
Would th’ other were no more! But, a pox on ’t!
When I am sometimes in my height of hope,
And reasonable valiant that way, my heart harden’d,
Some scornful jest or other chops between me
And my desire. What would ye have me to do, then, gentlemen? 50

_Mir._ Belleur, you must be bolder. Travel three years,
And bring home such a baby to betray ye
As bashfulness! A great fellow, and a soldier!

_Bel._ You have the gift of impudence; be thankful,
Every man has not the like talent. I will study,
And, if it may be reveal’d to me——

_Mir._ Learn of me, 56
And of Pinac. No doubt, you’ll find employment;
Ladies will look for courtship.

_Pin._ ’T is but fleshing,
But standing one good brunt or two. Hast thou any mind to marriage?
We’ll provide thee some soft-natur’d wench, that’s dumb too. 60

_Mir._ Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.

_Bel._ A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager,
And car’d not for discourse, I were excellent at.

_Mir._ You must now put on boldness, there’s no avoiding it,
And stand all hazards, fly at all games bravely;
They’ll say, you went out like an ox, and
return’d like an ass, else. 66

_Bel._ I shall make danger,[3516] sure.

_Mir._ I am sent for home now;
I know it is to marry; but my father shall pardon me:
Although it be a weighty[3517] ceremony, 69
And may concern me hereafter in my gravity,
I will not lose the freedom of a traveller.
A new strong lusty bark cannot ride at one anchor.
Shall I make divers suits to show to the same eyes?
’T is dull and homespun;—study several pleasures,
And want employments for ’em? I’ll be hang’d first. 75
Tie me to one smock? Make my travels fruitless?
I’ll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
By your leave, father, I must have a fresh mistress,
And a fresh favour[3518] too.

_Bel._ I like that passingly;
As many as you will, so they be willing, 80
Willing, and gentle, gentle.

_Pin._ There’s no reason
A gentleman, and a traveller, should be clapt up,
(For ’t is a kind of bilboes[3519] to be married),
Before he manifest to the world his good parts;
Tug ever, like a rascal, at one oar? 85
Give me the Italian liberty!

_Mir._ That I study.
And that I will enjoy. Come, go in, gentlemen;
There mark how I behave myself, and follow. _Exeunt._

SCENE III.[3520]

_Enter_ LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.

_La Cast._ You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome.
Beshrew my blood, they are fair ones!—Welcome beauties,
Welcome, sweet birds.

_Nant._ They are bound much to your courtesies.

_La Cast._ I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.

_Nant._ That’s my hope too: 5
For, certain, sir, I much desire your alliance.
You see ’em; they are no gypsies. For their breeding,
It has not been so coarse but they are able
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;
Indeed, they have been trained well.

_Lug._ Thank me. 10

_Nant._ Fit for the heirs of that state I shall leave ’em:
To say more, is to sell ’em. They say your son,
Now he has travell’d, must be wondrous curious
And choice in what he takes; these are no coarse ones.
Sir, here’s a merry wench—let him look to himself— 15
All heart, i’ faith—may chance to startle him;
For all his care, and travell’d caution,
May creep into his eye. If he love gravity,
Affect a solemn face, there’s one will fit him.

_La Cast._ So young and so demure?

_Nant._ She is my daughter, 20
Else I would tell you, sir, she is a mistress
Both of those manners and that modesty
You would wonder at. She is no often-speaker,
But, when she does, she speaks well; nor no reveller,
Yet she can dance, and has studied the court elements, 25
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
With the decency of her sex, may be a scholar,
I can assure ye, sir, she understands too.

_La Cast._ These are fit garments, sir.

_Lug._ Thank them that cut ’em.
Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too, 30
Pretty becoming parts.

_La Cast._ ’Tis like they have, sir.

_Lug._ Yes, yes, and handsome education they have had too,
Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it.
I taught it, I’ll avouch it.

_La Cast._ Ye say well, sir.

_Lug._ I know what I say, sir, and I say but right, sir. 35
I am no trumpet of their commendations
Before their father; else I should say farther.

_La Cast._ Pray ye, what’s this gentleman?

_Nant._ One that lives with me, sir;
A man well bred and learn’d, but blunt and bitter;
Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in ’t. 40
Many fair gifts he has, in some of which,
That lie most easy to their understandings,
H’as handsomely bred up my girls, I thank him.

[_Lug._] I have put it to ’em, that ’s my part, I have urg’d it.
It seems, they are of years now to take hold on ’t. 45

_Nant._ He ’s wondrous blunt.

_La Cast._ By my faith, I was afraid of him.
Does he not fall out with the gentlewomen sometimes?

_Nant._ No, no; he ’s that way moderate and discreet, sir.

_Ros._ If he did, we should be too hard for him.

_Lug._ Well said, sulphur! 50
Too hard for thy husband’s head, if he wear not armour.

_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, BELLEUR, DE GARD, _and_ ORIANA.

_Nant._ Many of these bickerings, sir.

_La Cast._ I am glad they are no oracles.
Sure as I live, he beats them, he ’s so puissant.

_Ori._ Well, if ye do forget——

_Mir._ Prithee, hold thy peace. 55
I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov’st me;
Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on ’t,
And a fit place. I’ll ease thy heart, I warrant thee.
Thou seest I have much to do now.

_Ori._ I am answer’d, sir:
With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions. 60

_De Gard._ Your father and your friends.

_La Cast._ You are welcome home, sir;
Bless ye, ye are very welcome! Pray, know this gentleman,
And these fair ladies.

_Nant._ Monsieur Mirabel,
I am much affected with your fair return, sir;
You bring a general joy.

_Mir._ I bring you service, 65
And these bright beauties, sir.

_Nant._ Welcome home, gentlemen,
Welcome with all my heart!

_Bel. & Pin._ We thank ye, sir.

_La Cast._ Your friends will have their share too.

_Bel._ Sir, we hope
They ’ll look upon us, though we show like strangers.

_Nant._ Monsieur De Gard, I must salute you also, 70
And this fair gentlewoman; you are welcome from your travel too.
All welcome, all.

_De Gard._ We render ye our loves, sir.
The best wealth we bring home.—By your favours, beauties.—
[_Aside to Ori._] One of these two: you know my meaning.

_Ori._ Well, sir;
They are fair and handsome, I must needs confess it, 75
And, let it prove the worst, I shall live after it.
Whilst I have meat and drink, love cannot starve me;
For, if I die o’ th’ first fit, I am unhappy,
And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.

_Mir._ To marry, sir?

_La Cast._ You know I am an old man, 80
And every hour declining to my grave,
One foot already in; more sons I have not,
Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy.
In you lies all my hope, and all my name,
The making good or wretched of my memory, 85
The safety of my state.

_Mir._ And you have provided,
Out of this tenderness, these handsome gentlewomen,
Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?

_La Cast._ I have, dear son.

_Mir._ ’T is true, ye are old and feebled;
Would ye were young again, and in full vigour! 90
I love a bounteous father’s life, a long one:
I am none of those that, when they shoot to ripeness,
Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on.
I wish ye many years and many riches,
And pleasures to enjoy ’em; but, for marriage, 95
I neither yet believe in ’t, nor affect[3521] it;
Nor think it fit.

_La Cast._ You will render me your reasons?

_Mir._ Yes, sir, both short and pithy, and these they are:—
You would have me marry a maid?

_La Cast._ A maid! what else?

_Mir._ Yes, there be things called widows, dead men’s wills, 100
I never lov’d to prove those; nor never long’d yet
To be buried alive in another man’s cold monument.
And there be maids appearing, and maids being:
The appearing are fantastic things, mere shadows;
And, if you mark ’em well, they want their heads, too; 105
Only the world, to cozen[3522] misty eyes,
Has clapt ’em on new faces: the maids being
A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry,
If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;
And let him take heed how he gather these too; 110
For, look ye, father, they are just like melons,
Musk-melons are the emblems of these maids;
Now they are ripe, now cut ’em, they taste pleasantly,
And are a dainty fruit, digested easily;
Neglect this present time, and come to-morrow, 115
They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness
Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.

_La Cast._ Why, these are now ripe, son.

_Mir._ I ’ll try them presently,
And, if I like their taste——

_La Cast._ ’Pray ye, please yourself, sir.

_Mir._ That liberty is my due, and I ’ll maintain it.— 120
Lady, what think you of a handsome man now?

_Ros._ A wholesome too, sir?

_Mir._ That’s as you make your bargain.
A handsome, wholesome man, then, and a kind man,
To cheer your heart up, to rejoice ye, lady?

_Ros._ Yes, sir, I love rejoicing.

_Mir._ To lie close to ye? 125
Close as a cockle? Keep the cold nights from ye?

_Ros._ That will be look’d for too; our bodies ask it.

_Mir._ And get two boys at every birth?

_Ros._ That’s nothing?
I have known a cobbler do it, a poor thin cobbler,
A cobbler out of mouldy cheese perform it, 130
Cabbage, and coarse black bread. Methinks, a gentleman
Should take foul scorn to have an awl out-name[3523] him.
Two at a birth! Why, every house-dove has it.
That man that feeds well, promises as well too,
I should expect indeed something of worth from. 135
You talk of two!

_Mir._ [_Aside._] She would have me get two dozen.
Like buttons, at a birth.

_Ros._ You love to brag, sir.
If you proclaim these offers at your marriage,
(Ye are a pretty-timber’d man, take heed.)
They may be taken hold of, and expected, 140
Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.

_Mir._ I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel.
Father, what think ye?

_La Cast._ ’T is a merry gentlewoman;
Will make, no doubt, a good wife.

_Mir._ Not for me.
I marry her, and, happily,[3524] get nothing: 145
In what a state am I then, father? I shall suffer.
For any thing I hear to the contrary, _more majorum_;
I were as sure to be a cuckold, father,
A gentleman of antler——

_La Cast._ Away, away, fool!

_Mir._ As I am sure to fail her expectation. 150
I had rather get the pox than get her babies.

_La Cast._ Ye are much to blame. If this do not affect[3525] ye,
Pray, try the other; she ’s of a more demure way.

_Bel._ [_Aside._] That I had but the audacity to talk thus!
I love that plain-spoken gentlewoman admirably; 155
And, certain, I could go as near to please her,
If down-right doing—she has a per’lous countenance—
If I could meet one that would believe me,
And take my honest meaning without circumstance——

_Mir._ You shall have your will, sir; I will try the other; 160
But ’t will be to small use.—I hope, fair lady,
(For, methinks, in your eyes I see more mercy,)
You will enjoin your lover a less penance;
And though I ’ll promise much, as men are liberal,
And vow an ample sacrifice of service, 165
Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,
And thriftiness in love, good huswife’s carefulness
To keep the stock entire——

_Lil._ Good sir, speak louder.
That these may witness, too, you talk of nothing.
I should be loth alone to bear the burden 170
Of so much indiscretion.

_Mir._ Hark ye, hark ye!
’Ods-bobs,[3526] you are angry, lady.

_Lil._ Angry! no, sir;
I never own’d an anger to lose poorly.

_Mir._ But you can love, for all this; and delight too.
For all your set austerity to hear 175
Of a good husband, lady?

_Lil._ You say true, sir;
For, by my troth, I have heard of none these ten year,
They are so rare; and there are so many, sir,
So many longing women on their knees too,
That pray the dropping-down of these good husbands— 180
The dropping-down from Heaven; for they are not bred here—
That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing——

_Mir._ Why may not I be one?

_Lil._ You were near ’em once, sir.
When ye came o’er the Alps; those are near Heaven.
But since ye miss’d that happiness, there’s no hope of ye. 185

_Mir._ Can ye love a man?

_Lil._ Yes, if the man be lovely,
That is, be honest, modest. I would have him valiant,
His anger slow, but certain for his honour;
Travell’d he should be, but through himself exactly,
For ’t is fairer to know manners well than countries. 190
He must be no vain talker, nor no lover
To hear himself talk; they are brags of a wanderer,
Of one finds no retreat for fair behaviour.
Would ye learn more?

_Mir._ Yes.

_Lil._ Learn to hold your peace, then:
Fond[3527] girls are got with tongues, women with tempers. 195

_Mir._ Women, with I know what; but let that vanish.
Go thy way, good-wife Bias! Sure, thy husband
Must have a strong philosopher’s stone, he will ne’er please
thee else.—
Here ’s a starch’d piece of austerity!—Do you hear, father?
Do you hear this moral lecture?

_La Cast._ Yes, and like it. 200

_Mir._ Why, there’s your judgment now; there’s an old bolt shot!
This thing must have the strangest observation,[3528]
(Do you mark me, father?) when she is married once,
The strangest custom too of admiration
On all she does and speaks, ’t will be past sufferance. 205
I must not lie with her in common language.
Nor cry, “Have at thee, Kate!”—I shall be hiss’d then;
Nor eat my meat without the sauce of sentences,
Your powder’d beef and problems, a rare diet!
My first son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it, 210
Great master of the metaphysics, or so;
The second, Solon, and the best law-setter;
And I must look[3529] Egyptian god-fathers,
Which will be no small trouble; my eldest daughter,
Sappho, or such a fiddling kind of poetess. 215
And brought up, _invita Minerva_, at her needle!
My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,
Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Bawdy-face.
I married to a sullen set of sentences!
To one that weighs her words and her behaviours 220
In the gold-weights[3530] of discretion! I ’ll be hang’d first.

_La Cast._ Prithee, reclaim thyself.

_Mir._ Pray ye, give me time, then.
If they can set me any thing to play at,
That seems fit for a gamester, have at the fairest,
Till I see more, and try more!

_La Cast._ Take your time, then; 225
I’ll bar ye no fair liberty.—Come, gentlemen;
And ladies, come; to all, once more, a welcome!
And, now let’s in to supper.
[_Exeunt_ LA CASTRE, NANTOLET, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.]

_Mir._ How dost like ’em?

_Pin._ They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours—— 230

_Mir._ Too strange for me. I must have those have mettle.
And mettle to my mind. Come, let’s be merry.

_Bel._ Bless me from this woman! I would stand the cannon,
Before ten words of hers.
[_Exeunt_ MIRABEL, PINAC, _and_ BELLEUR.]

_De Gard._ Do you find him now?
Do you think he will be ever firm?

_Ori._ I fear not. [_Exeunt._] 235