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Artl.
I would first kisse your hand.

Dorot.
My lip being too unworthy.

Tong.
I take my leave Madame.

Lady.
Farewell Mistris Tongall.

Sir Gen.
Son, schoole your Sister. Come with me Wife.

Y. Wor.
Sister, I can but wonder much, that you
Ex.
Should make your selfe the object of their Courtship,
Who beare perhaps but th'empty names of Gentlemen,
Without the reall fulnesse.

Doroth.

What meane you (Brother) by this introduction?

Y. Wor.
Sister, to take the priviledge of discretion,
And schoole your ignorant courtesie, that upon
The shadowes and appearances of Men
Confer your favours.

Dorot.
Brother, you may pretend your love
In this distrust; but 'tis an ill expression.
Thinke not my judgement subject to such weaknesse,
That I can build a faith on Complements,
Or (with rash passion) run into an error.
Nothing but knowne desert shall tye my thoughts
To a staid liking, if I may distinguish it.
And when my choice is fixt, it shall be such
As your fraternall love must not dispute.

Y. Wor.
Sister, my counsel's milde.
Nor would I have you violent in defence
Of a suspected folly. Guilt is aptest
To make excuse. But if your resolution
Be bent thus wilfully to persist in actions

Of fear'd dishonour, be assur'd my Spirit
Shall rage with such an anger, playes ne're painted.

Dorot.
Dishonour Brother, I have a spirit too,
That scornes as much an Act of foule dishonour,
As you, or any Masculine pretender
To noble Vertues. Guilt is aptest still
To be suspitious. If a maid be free
In her discourse, and courteous entertainment,
She straight is censur'd. But let a man appeare
Stuck full of apish Courtship; light, inconstant,
As talkative as Parrats, that are taught
A voyces imitation; one that courts
Every tam'd beauty with a seeming zeale;
As if his soules devotion were restrain'd
Onely to her Divinitie; this man's call'd
A well-bred complementall Gentleman.
Mens greatest follies, if compar'd with ours,
Are vertues, fit for our imitation.

Y. Wor.
Sister, your Satyr smart's not:
The lashes reach not me.

Dorot.
They are but suppositions Brother.
And pray suppose the Gentleman that seem'd
To court my beauty, were indeed a man,
Not guilded imperfections; one whose words
Were full of weighty judgement, not mere sound;
Whose reall vertues did beget an envie,
Perhaps an emulation in all others;
And from the freedome of his richer minde
He gave himselfe and them to be my servants;
What gratitude in me might equall this?

Y. Wor.
I know you are free.
And rather then a complementall servant
Should be discourag'd in his serious wantonnesse,
You'l give it countenance to make him bold
In's amorous pursuit; perhaps to th'impudence
Of a lascivious charge upon your modestie;
Because you scorne ingratitude.

Dorot.
Brother, did not the ties
Of love and nature check my forward aptnesse,
I'de tell you y'are not noble, and suspect
Whether your mind hold that derivative goodnesse
Which generous bloud communicates, to suspect
Her resolute constancie whom you call Sister.
Thinke not your being a man prerogative
To be the onely Counsellor in manners
Brother, though to your person I am partiall.
Through confidence of your appearing vertue;
The generall vices noted in your sexe,
Such as with publique ostentation
You glory to be guiltie of, which in
Our very thoughts raise blushes—

Y. Wor.
Sister no more.
Leaving these circumstantiall arguments,
Pray let a Fathers care and Brothers love
Commend him first whom you intend for Husband:
You'l finde us tyrants else. Nature is kind;
But if provokt, she hath a Tygers mind.
Ile finde him out and satisfie my selfe
How farre he is deserving.

Goes forth by the middle Scene.
Dorot.
How is our weaknes trodden and insulted on
By these imperious men! Aid me resolves
Against their threats and counsels, unlesse grounded
On stronger reasons then suspition.
As the pure Oare refin'd exceeds in value
Treble proportions of the courser drosse;
So true desert in Man an outward glosse.

Goes forth by the middle Scœne.