Chapter CVII: Act IV: Scene I.3595

_Enter_ LUGIER, LILLIA BIANCA, _and_ Servant [_carrying a willow garland_].

_Lug._ Faint not, but do as I direct ye: trust me;
Believe me too; for what I have told ye, lady,
As true as you are Lillia, is authentic;
I know it, I have found it: ’t is a poor courage
Flies off for one repulse. These travellers 5
Shall find, before we have done, a home-spun wit,
A plain French understanding, may cope with ’em.
They have had the better yet, thank your sweet squire here!
And let ’em brag. You would be reveng’d?

_Lil._ Yes, surely.

_Lug._ And married too?

_Lil._ I think so.

_Lug._ Then be counsell’d; 10
You know how to proceed. I have other irons
Heating as well as yours, and I will strike
Three blows with one stone home. Be rul’d, and happy;
And so, I leave ye. Now is the time.

_Lil._ I am ready,
If he do come to dor[3596] me. [_Exit_ LUGIER.]

_Serv._ Will ye stand here, 15
And let the people think ye are God knows what, mistress?
Let boys and prentices presume upon ye?

_Lil._ Prithee, hold thy peace.

_Serv._ Stand at his door that hates ye?

_Lil._ Prithee, leave prating.

_Serv._ Pray ye, go to the tavern: I ’ll give ye a pint of wine there.
If any of the mad-cap gentlemen should come by, 20
That take up women upon special warrant,
You were in a wise case now.

_Enter_ MIRABEL, PINAC, MARIANA, Priest, _and_ Attendants.

_Lil._ Give me the garland;
And wait you here. [_Takes the garland from_ Servant, _who retires_.]

_Mir._ She is here to seek thee, sirrah.
I told thee what would follow; she is mad for thee.
Show, and advance.—So early stirring, lady? 25
It shows a busy mind, a fancy troubled.
A willow garland too? Is ’t possible?
’T is pity so much beauty should lie musty;
But ’t is not to be help’d now.

_Lil._ The more ’s my misery.—
Good fortune to ye, lady! you deserve it: 30
To me, too-late repentance! I have sought it.
I do not envy, though I grieve a little,
You are mistress of that happiness, those joys,
That might have been, had I been wise—but fortune—

_Pin._ She understands ye not; pray ye, do not trouble her: 35
And do not cross me like a hare thus; ’t is as ominous.

_Lil._ I come not to upbraid your levity
(Though ye made show of love, and though I lik’d ye),
To claim an interest (we are yet both strangers;
But what we might have been, had you persever’d, sir!) 40
To be an eye-sore to your loving lady:
This garland shows I give myself forsaken
(Yet, she must pardon me, ’t is most unwillingly);
And all the power and interest I had in ye
(As, I persuade myself, somewhat ye lov’d me) 45
Thus patiently I render up, I offer
To her that must enjoy ye, and so bless ye;
Only, I heartily desire this courtesy,
And would not be deni’d, to wait upon ye
This day, to see ye tied, then no more trouble ye. 50

_Pin._ It needs not, lady.

_Lil._ Good sir, grant me so much.

_Pin._ ’T is private, and we make no invitation.

_Lil._ My presence, sir, shall not proclaim it public.

_Pin._ May be, ’t is not in town.

_Lil._ I have a coach, sir,
And a most ready will to do you service. 55

_Mir._ [_Aside to_ PINAC.] Strike now or never; make it sure:
I tell thee,
She will hang herself, if she have thee not.

_Pin._ Pray ye, sir,
Entertain my noble mistress: only a word or two
With this importunate woman, and I’ll relieve ye.— 60
Now ye see what your flings are, and your fancies,
Your states, and your wild stubbornness; now ye find
What ’t is to gird[3597] and kick at men’s fair services,
To raise your pride to such a pitch and glory
That goodness shows like gnats, scorn’d under ye. 65
’T is ugly, naught; a self-will in a woman,
Chain’d to an overweening thought, is pestilent,
Murders fair fortune first, then fair opinion.[3598]
There stands a pattern, a true patient pattern,
Humble and sweet.

_Lil._ I can but grieve my ignorance. 70
Repentance, some say too, is the best sacrifice;
For, sure, sir, if my chance had been so happy
(As I confess I was mine own destroyer)
As to have arriv’d at you, I will not prophesy,
But certain, as I think, I should have pleas’d ye; 75
Have made ye as much wonder at my courtesy,
My love, and duty, as I have dishearten’d ye.
Some hours we have of youth, and some of folly;
And being free-born maids, we take a liberty,
And, to maintain that, sometimes we strain highly. 80

_Pin._ Now you talk reason.

_Lil._ But, being yok’d and govern’d,
Married, and those light vanities purg’d from us,
How fair we grow, how gentle, and how tender!
We twine about those loves that shoot up with us!
A sullen woman fear, that talks not to ye; 85
She has a sad and darken’d soul, loves dully.
A merry and a free wench, give her liberty,
Believe her, in the lightest form she appears to ye,
Believe her excellent, though she despise ye;
Let but these fits and flashes pass, she will show to ye 90
As jewels rubb’d from dust, or gold new burnish’d:
Such had I been, had you believ’d.

_Pin._ Is ’t possible?

_Lil._ And to your happiness, I dare assure ye,
If true love be accounted so: your pleasure,
Your will, and your command, had tied my motions: 95
But that hope’s gone. I know you are young and giddy,
And, till you have a wife can govern with ye,
You sail upon this world’s sea light and empty,
Your bark in danger daily. ’T is not the name neither
Of wife can steer you, but the noble nature, 100
The diligence, the care, the love, the patience:
She makes the pilot, and preserves the husband,
That knows and reckons every rib he is built on.
But this I tell ye, to my shame.

_Pin._ I admire ye;
And now am sorry that I aim beyond ye. 105

_Mir._ [_Aside._] So, so, so: fair and softly! She is thine own, boy;
She comes now without lure.

_Pin._ But that it must needs
Be reckon’d to me as a wantonness,
Or worse, a madness, to forsake a blessing,
A blessing of that hope——

_Lil._ I dare not urge ye; 110
And yet, dear sir——

_Pin._ ’Tis most certain, I had rather,
If ’t were in mine own choice—for you are my country-woman,
A neighbour here, born by me: she a stranger,
And who knows how her friends——

_Lil._ Do as you please, sir;
If ye be fast, not all the world—I love ye. 115
It is most true, and clear I would persuade ye;
And I shall love ye still.

_Pin._ Go, get before me—
So much ye have won upon me—do it presently.
Here’s a priest ready—I’ll have you.

_Lil._ Not now, sir; 119
No, you shall pardon me. Advance your lady;
I dare not hinder your most high preferment.
’T is honour enough for me I have unmask’d you.

_Pin._ How ’s that?

_Lil._ I have caught ye, sir. Alas, I am no stateswoman,
Nor no great traveller, yet I have found ye; 125
I have found your lady too, your beauteous lady;
I have found her birth and breeding too, her discipline,
Who brought her over, and who kept your lady,
And, when he laid her by, what virtuous nunnery
Receiv’d her in: I have found all these. Are ye blank now? 130
Methinks, such travell’d wisdoms should not fool thus,—
Such excellent indiscretions!

_Mir._ How could she know this?

_Lil._ ’T is true she ’s English-born; but most part French now,
And so I hope you ’ll find her to your comfort.
Alas, I am ignorant of what she cost ye! 135
The price of these hired clothes I do not know, gentlemen!
Those jewels are the broker’s, how ye stand bound for ’em!

_Pin._ Will you make this good?

_Lil._ Yes, yes; and to her face, sir,
That she is an English whore, a kind of fling-dust, 139
One of your London light-o’-loves, a right one;
Came over in thin pumps and half a petticoat,
One faith, and one smock, with a broken haberdasher—
I know all this without a conjurer.
Her name is Jumping Joan, an ancient sin-weaver;
She was first a lady’s chambermaid, there slipp’d, 145
And broke her leg above the knee; departed,
And set up shop herself; stood the fierce conflicts
Of many a furious term;[3599] there lost her colours,
And last shipp’d over hither.

_Mir._ We are betray’d!

_Lil._ Do you come to fright me with this mystery? 150
To stir me with a stink none can endure, sir?
I pray ye, proceed; the wedding will become ye:
Who gives the lady? You? An excellent father!
A careful man, and one that knows a beauty!
Send ye fair shipping, sir! and so, I ’ll leave ye. 155
Be wise and manly; then I may chance to love ye!
_Exit_ [_with_ Servant].

_Mir._ As I live, I am asham’d this wench has reach’d me,
Monstrous asham’d; but there’s no remedy.
This skew’d-ey’d carrion——

_Pin._ This I suspected ever.—
Come, come, uncase; we have no more use of ye; 160
Your clothes must back again.

_Mari._ Sir, you shall pardon me;
’T is not our English use to be degraded.
If you will visit me, and take your venture,
You shall have pleasure for your properties.
And so, sweetheart—— [_Exit._] 165

_Mir._ Let her go, and the devil go with her!
We have never better luck with these preludiums.
Come, be not daunted; think she is but a woman,
And, let her have the devil’s wit, we ’ll reach her! _Exeunt._

SCENE II.[3600]

_Enter_ ROSALURA _and_ LUGIER.

_Ros._ You have now redeem’d my good opinion, tutor,
And ye stand fair again.

_Lug._ I can but labour,
And sweat in your affairs. I am sure Belleur
Will be here instantly, and use his anger,
His wonted harshness.

_Ros._ I hope he will not best me. 5

_Lug._ No, sure, he has more manners. Be you ready.

_Ros._ Yes, yes, I am; and am resolv’d to fit him,
With patience to outdo all he can offer.
But how does Oriana?

_Lug._ Worse and worse still;
There is a sad house for her; she is now, 10
Poor lady, utterly distracted.

_Ros._ Pity,
Infinite pity! ’t is a handsome lady:
That Mirabel’s a beast, worse than a monster,
If this affliction work not.

_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA.

_Lil._ Are you ready?
Belleur is coming on here, hard behind me: 15
I have no leisure to relate my fortune;
Only I wish you may come off as handsomely.
Upon the sign, you know what.

_Ros._ Well, well; leave me.
_Exeunt_ [LILLIA BIANCA _and_ LUGIER].

_Enter_ BELLEUR.

_Bel._ How now?

_Ros._ Ye are welcome, sir.

_Bel._ ’T is well ye have manners.
That court’sy again, and hold your countenance staidly. 20
That look ’s too light; take heed: so; sit ye down now;
And, to confirm me that your gall is gone,
Your bitterness dispers’d (for so I ’ll have it),
Look on me stedfastly, and, whatsoe’er I say to ye,
Move not, nor alter in your face; ye are gone, then; 25
For, if you do express the least distaste,
Or show an angry wrinkle, (mark me, woman!
We are now alone,) I will so conjure thee,
The third part of my execution
Cannot be spoke.

_Ros._ I am at your dispose, sir. 30

_Bel._ Now rise, and woo me a little; let me hear that faculty:
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge ye.
Begin now.

_Ros._ If so mean and poor a beauty
May ever hope the grace——

_Bel._ Ye cog,[3601] ye flatter;
Like a lewd[3602] thing, ye lie: “May hope that grace!” 35
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not;
For, if thou dost, and liest again, I ’ll swinge thee.
Do not I know thee for a pestilent woman?
A proud at both ends? Be not angry,
Nor stir not, o’ your life.

_Ros._ I am counsell’d, sir. 40

_Bel._ Art thou not now (confess, for I ’ll have the truth out)
As much unworthy of a man of merit,
Or any of ye all, nay, of mere man,
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him,
Nay, of any dishonest thing that bears that figure, 45
As devils are of mercy?

_Ros._ We are unworthy.

_Bel._ Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee.
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
That we are troubled, vex’d, or tortur’d with ye,
Our mere and special bounty?

_Ros._ Yes.

_Bel._ Our pity, 50
That for your wickedness we swinge ye soundly;
Your stubbornness and stout hearts, we belabour ye?
Answer to that!

_Ros._ I do confess your pity.

_Bel._ And dost not thou deserve in thine own person,
Thou impudent, thou pert—Do not change countenance. 55

_Ros._ I dare not, sir.

_Bel._ For, if you do——

_Ros._ I am settled.

_Bel._ Thou wagtail, peacock, puppy, look on me:
I am a gentleman.

_Ros._ It seems no less, sir,

_Bel._ And dar’st thou in thy surquedry[3603]——

_Ros._ I beseech you!—
It was my weakness, sir, I did not view ye, 60
I took not notice of your noble parts,
Nor call’d your person nor your fashion proper.[3604]

_Bel._ This is some amends yet.

_Ros._ I shall mend, sir, daily.
And study to deserve.

_Bel._ Come a little nearer:
Canst thou repent thy villany?

_Ros._ Most seriously. 65

_Bel._ And be asham’d?

_Ros._ I am asham’d.

_Bel._ Cry.

_Ros._ It will be hard to do, sir.

_Bel._ Cry now instantly;
Cry monstrously, that all the town may hear thee;
Cry seriously, as if thou hadst lost thy monkey;
And, as I like thy tears——

_Enter_ LILLIA BIANCA, _and four_ Women, _laughing_.

_Ros._ Now! [_To those within._]

_Bel._ How! how! Do ye jeer me? 70
Have ye broke your bounds again, dame?

_Ros._ Yes, and laugh at ye,
And laugh most heartily.

_Bel._ What are these? whirlwinds?
Is hell broke loose, and all the Furies flutter’d?
Am I greased[3605] once again?

_Ros._ Yes, indeed are ye;
And once again ye shall be, if ye quarrel: 75
Do you come to vent your fury on a virgin?
Is this your manhood, sir?

_1 Wom._ Let him do his best;
Let’s see the utmost of his indignation;
I long to see him angry.—Come, proceed, sir.—
[_The women display knives._]
Hang him, he dares not stir; a man of timber!

_2 Wom._ Come hither to fright maids with thy bull-faces! 81
To threaten gentlewomen! Thou a man! A Maypole,
A great dry pudding.

[3] _Wom._ Come, come, do your worst, sir;
Be angry, if thou dar’st.

_Bel._ The Lord deliver me!

_4 Wom._ Do but look scurvily upon this lady, 85
Or give us one foul word!—We are all mistaken;
This is some mighty dairy-maid in man’s clothes.

_Lil._ I am of that mind too.

_Bel._ [_Aside._] What will they do to me?

_Lil._ And hired to come and abuse us.—A man has manners;
A gentleman, civility and breeding:— 90
Some tinker’s trull, with a beard glu’d on.

_1 Wom._ Let’s search him,
And, as we find him——

_Bel._ Let me but depart from ye,
Sweet Christian women!

_Lil._ Hear the thing speak, neighbours.

_Bel._ ’T is but a small request: if e’er I trouble ye,
If e’er I talk again of beating women, 95
Or beating any thing that can but turn to me;
Of ever thinking of a handsome lady
But virtuously and well; of ever speaking
But to her honour,—this I ’ll promise ye,
I will take rhubarb, and purge choler[3606] mainly,[3607]
Abundantly I ’ll purge.

_Lil._ I ’ll send ye broths, sir. 101

_Bel._ I will be laugh’d at, and endure it patiently;
I will do any thing.

_Ros._ I ’ll be your bail, then.
When ye come next to woo, pray ye come not boisterously,
And furnish’d like a bear-ward.[3608]

_Bel._ No, in truth, forsooth. 105

_Ros._ I scented ye long since.

_Bel._ I was to blame, sure:
I will appear a gentleman.

_Ros._ ’T is the best for ye,
For a true noble gentleman ’s a brave thing.
Upon that hope, we quit ye. You fear seriously?

_Bel._ Yes, truly do I; I confess I fear ye, 110
And honour ye, and any thing.

_Ros._ Farewell, then.

_Wom._ And, when ye come to woo next, bring more mercy.
_Exeunt_ [_all except_ BELLEUR].

_Enter two_ Gentlemen.

_Bel._ A dairy-maid! A tinker’s trull! Heaven bless me!
Sure, if I had provok’d ’em, they had quartered me.
I am a most ridiculous ass, now I perceive it;
A coward, and a knave too.

_1 Gent._ ’T is the mad gentleman; 116
Let ’s set our faces right.

_Bel._ No, no; laugh at me,
And laugh aloud.

_2 Gent._ We are better manner’d, sir.

_Bel._ I do deserve it; call me patch[3609] and puppy,
And beat me, if you please.

_1 Gent._ No, indeed; we know ye. 120

_Bel._ ’Death, do as I would have ye!

_2 Gent._ Ye are an ass, then,
A coxcomb, and a calf!

_Bel._ I am a great calf.
Kick me a little now. Why, when! [_They kick him._] Sufficient.
Now laugh aloud, and scorn me. So good b’ ye!
And ever, when ye meet me, laugh.

_Gentlemen._ We will, sir. 125

_Exeunt_ [_on one side_, _the two_ Gentlemen; _on the other_, BELLEUR].

SCENE III.[3610]

_Enter_ NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, _and_ MIRABEL.

_Mir._ Your patience, gentlemen; why do ye bait me?

_Nant._ Is ’t not a shame you are so stubborn-hearted,
So stony and so dull, to such a lady,
Of her perfections and her misery?

_Lug._ Does she not love ye? Does not her distraction 5
For your sake only, her most pitied lunacy
Of all but you, show ye? Does it not compel ye?

_Mir._ Soft and fair, gentlemen; pray ye, proceed temperately.

_Lug._ If ye have any feeling, any sense in ye,
The least touch of a noble heart—— 10

_La Cast._ Let him alone:
It is his glory that he can kill beauty.—
Ye bear my stamp, but not my tenderness;
Your wild unsavoury courses let[3611] that in ye!
For shame, be sorry, though ye cannot cure her; 15
Show something of a man, of a fair nature.

_Mir._ Ye make me mad!

_De Gard._ Let me pronounce this to ye:
You take a strange felicity in slighting
And wronging women, which my poor sister feels now; 20
Heaven’s hand be gentle on her! Mark me, sir;
That very hour she dies (there’s small hope otherwise),
That minute, you and I must grapple for it;
Either your life or mine.

_Mir._ Be not so hot, sir;
I am not to be wrought on by these policies, 25
In truth, I am not; nor do I fear the tricks,
Or the high-sounding threats, of a Savoyan.
I glory not in cruelty, (ye wrong me,)
Nor grow up water’d with the tears of women.
This let me tell ye, howsoe’er I show to ye, 30
Wild, as you please to call it, or self-will’d,
When I see cause, I can both do and suffer,
Freely and feelingly, as a true gentleman.

_Enter_ ROSALURA _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.

_Ros._ Oh, pity, pity! thousand, thousand pities!

_Lil._ Alas, poor soul, she will die! She is grown senseless; 35
She will not know nor speak now.

_Ros._ Die for love!
And love of such a youth! I would die for a dog first:
He that kills me, I ’ll give him leave to eat me;
I ’ll know men better, ere I sigh for any of ’em.

_Lil._ You have done a worthy act, sir, a most famous; 40
Ye have kill’d a maid the wrong way; ye are a conqueror.

_Ros._ A conqueror? A cobbler! Hang him, sowter![3612]—
Go hide thyself, for shame! Go lose thy memory!
Live not ’mongst men; thou art a beast, a monster,
A blatant beast!

_Lil._ If ye have yet any honesty, 45
Or ever heard of any, take my counsel:
Off with your garters, and seek out a bough,—
A handsome bough, for I would have ye hang like a gentleman;
And write some doleful matter to the world,
A warning to hard-hearted men.

_Mir._ Out, kitlings! 50
What caterwauling ’s here! What gibbing![3613]
Do you think my heart is soft’ned with a black santis?[3614]
Show me some reason.

_Enter_ ORIANA _on a bed_.

_Ros._ Here then, here is a reason.

_Nant._ Now, if ye be a man, let this sight shake ye!

_La Cast._ Alas, poor gentlewoman!—Do ye know me, lady? 55

_Lug._ How she looks up, and stares!

_Ori._ I know ye very well;
You are my godfather: and that’s the monsieur.

_De Gard._ And who am I?

_Ori._ You are Amadis de Gaul, sir.—
Oh, oh, my heart!—Were you never in love, sweet lady?
And do you never dream of flowers and gardens? 60
I dream of walking fires: take heed; it comes now.
Who’s that? Pray, stand away. I have seen that face, sure.—
How light my head is!

_Ros._ Take some rest.

_Ori._ I cannot;
For I must be up to-morrow to go to church,
And I must dress me, put my new gown on,
And be as fine to meet my love! Heigh-ho! 66
Will you not tell me where my love lies buried?

_Mir._ He is not dead.—[_Aside._] Beshrew my heart, she stirs me!

_Ori._ He is dead to me.

_Mir._ [_Aside._] Is ’t possible my nature
Should be so damnable to let her suffer?— 70
Give me your hand.

_Ori._ How soft ye feel, how gentle!
I ’ll tell you your fortune, friend.

_Mir._ How she stares on me!

_Ori._ You have a flattering face, but ’t is a fine one;
I warrant you may have a hundred sweethearts.
Will ye pray for me? I shall die to-morrow; 75
And will ye ring the bells?

_Mir._ I am most unworthy,
I do confess, unhappy. Do you know me?

_Ori._ I would I did!

_Mir._ Oh, fair tears, how ye take[3615] me!

_Ori._ Do you weep too? You have not lost your lover?
You mock me: I ’ll go home and pray.

_Mir._ Pray ye, pardon me; 80
Or, if it please ye to consider justly,
Scorn me, for I deserve it; scorn and shame me,
Sweet Oriana!

_Lil._ Let her alone; she trembles:
Her fits will grow more strong, if ye provoke her.

_La Cast._ Certain she knows ye not, yet loves to see ye. 85
How she smiles now!

_Enter_ BELLEUR.

_Bel._ Where are ye? Oh, why do not ye laugh? Come, laugh at me:
Why a devil art thou sad, and such a subject,
Such a ridiculous subject, as I am,
Before thy face?

_Mir._ Prithee, put off this lightness; 90
This is no time for mirth, nor place; I have us’d too much on ’t.
I have undone myself and a sweet lady
By being too indulgent to my foolery,
Which truly I repent. Look here.

_Bel._ What ails she?

_Mir._ Alas, she ’s mad!

_Bel._ Mad!

_Mir._ Yes, too sure; for me too. 95

_Bel._ Dost thou wonder at that? By this good light, they are all so;
They are coz’ning-mad, they are brawling-mad, they are proud-mad;
They are all, all mad. I came from a world of mad women,
Mad as March hares. Get ’em in chains, then deal with ’em.
There’s one that’s mad; she seems well, but she is dog-mad. 100
Is she dead, dost think?

_Mir._ Dead! Heaven forbid!

_Bel._ Heaven further it!
For, till they be key-cold dead, there’s no trusting of ’em:
Whate’er they seem, or howsoe’er they carry it,
Till they be chap-fallen, and their tongues at peace,
Nail’d in their coffins sure, I’ll ne’er believe ’em. 105
Shall I talk with her?

_Mir._ No, dear friend, be quiet,
And be at peace a while.

_Bel._ I ’ll walk aside,
And come again anon. But take heed to her:
You say she is a woman?

_Mir._ Yes.

_Bel._ Take great heed;
For, if she do not cozen thee, then hang me: 110
Let her be mad, or what she will, she ’ll cheat thee! _Exit._

_Mir._ Away, wild fool!—How vild this shows in him now!—
Now take my faith, (before ye all I speak it,)
And with it my repentant love.

_La Cast._ This seems well.

_Mir._ Were but this lady clear again, whose sorrows 115
My very heart melts for, were she but perfect,
(For thus to marry her would be two miseries,)
Before the richest and the noblest beauty,
France or the world could show me, I would take her.
As she is now, my tears and prayers shall wed her. 120

_De Gard._ This makes some small amends.

_Ros._ She beckons to ye;
To us, too, to go off.

_Nant._ Let’s draw aside all.

[_Exeunt all except_ ORIANA _and_ MIRABEL.]

_Ori._ Oh, my best friend! I would fain——

_Mir._ [_Aside._] What, she speaks well,
And with another voice.

_Ori._ But I am fearful.
And shame a little stops my tongue——

_Mir._ Speak boldly. 125

_Ori._ Tell ye, I am well. I am perfect well (pray ye, mock not);
And that I did this to provoke your nature;
Out of my infinite and restless love,
To win your pity. Pardon me!

_Mir._ Go forward:
Who set ye on?

_Ori._ None, as I live, no creature; 130
Not any knew or ever dream’d what I meant.
Will ye be mine?

_Mir._ ’T is true, I pity ye;
But, when I marry ye, ye must be wiser.
Nothing but tricks? devices?

_Ori._ Will ye shame me?

_Mir._ Yes, marry, will I.—Come near, come near! a miracle! 135
The woman’s well; she was only mad for marriage.
Stark mad to be ston’d to death: give her good counsel.
Will this world never mend?—Are ye caught, damsel?

_Enter_ BELLEUR, NANTOLET, LA CASTRE, DE GARD, LUGIER, ROSALURA, _and_ LILLIA BIANCA.

_Bel._ How goes it now?

_Mir._ Thou art a kind of prophet;
The woman’s well again, and would have gull’d me; 140
Well, excellent well, and not a taint upon her.

_Bel._ Did not I tell ye? Let ’em be what can be,
Saints, devils, any thing, they will abuse us:
Thou wert an ass to believe her so long, a coxcomb:
Give ’em a minute, they ’ll abuse whole millions. 145

_Mir._ And am not I a rare physician, gentlemen,
That can cure desperate mad minds?

_De Gard._ Be not insolent.

_Mir._ Well, go thy ways: from this hour I disclaim thee,
Unless thou hast a trick above this; then I ’ll love thee.
Ye owe me for your cure.—Pray, have a care of her, 150
For fear she fall into relapse.—Come, Belleur;
We ’ll set up bills to cure diseased virgins.

_Bel._ Shall we be merry?

_Mir._ Yes.

_Bel._ But I ’ll no more projects:
If we could make ’em mad, it were some mastery.

_Exeunt_ [MIRABEL _and_ BELLEUR].

_Lil._ I am glad she is well again.

_Ros._ So am I, certain.— 155
Be not ashamed.

_Ori._ I shall never see a man more.

_De Gard._ Come, ye are a fool: had ye but told me this trick,
He should not have gloried thus.

_Lug._ He shall not long, neither.

_La Cast._ Be rul’d, and be at peace. Ye have my consent, 159
And what power I can work with.

_Nant._ Come, leave blushing;
We are your friends: an honest way compell’d ye:
Heaven will not see so true a love unrecompens’d.
Come in, and slight him too.

_Lug._ The next shall hit him. _Exeunt._