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The second Scœne.
To them Franke.
And here's new mischiefe. Hath the Devill policie
To prevent ill? There's no avoyding him.
Fran.
To prevent ill? There's no avoyding him.
'Tis he: h'hath spide me; and his feares deject him.
Sweet constancie, how I could blame the good
Thy kindnesse meanes me, that hadst rather lose
Thine owne white purity, then staine my credit
With spots time cannot wash out. Doubly happy
Shall I be in enjoying her, and punishing
A trecherous friend.
George, how long have you converst with the Frock-trade?
I thought the smock had bin your chiefe delight.
Geor.
The Porter waits upon me.
Fran.
With stuffing for your bed.
Geor.
A light commodity I bought at Totenham-Court.
Didst ever thinke I should have been so thrifty to buy feathers
at the best hand? When I have us'd them throughly,
there are Suburb Upholsters will give me my money
agen.
Fran.
Me thinks they are very heavy.
Geor.
Let them alone.
Fran.
Have not you stolne mine Hostes great brasse Pot
she boyled old marrow-bones in, for the fat to make her
60
along with me.
Geor.
Prethee goe backe to thy milke Mayde.
Fran.
Dost thou deride me? Nay then Porter up with it,
or here's a goud to force you, and let out some of your Goats
blood.
Geor.
Thou dar'st not strike a friend basely.
Fran.
Friendship is canceld.
Th'ast broke the league that knit over our outward love:
For in consent of ill Love's never solid.
Hadst not abus'd that love with foule intents,
I would have thankt thy paines, which she contriv'd
Onely for me t'enjoy her.
Geor.
Is't even so
You shall heare from me Franke. Come hither Porter,
She hath legs to walke with you.
Fran.
But that I thinke disgrace a punishment
Worthy the guilt, this instant houre should give
The wrongs thou didst intend a satisfaction.
I must be bold sweet: mine are no Porters shoulders.
A Coach waits not farre off.
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