 | The Diuell is an Asse
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Scene. V.
Pvg.
Svre hee will geld mee, if I stay: or worse,
Pluck out my tongue, one o'the two. This Foole,
There is no trusting of him: and to quit him,
Were a contempt against my Chiefe, past pardon.
It was a shrewd disheartning this, at first!
Who would ha' thought a woman so well harness'd,
Or rather well-caparison'd, indeed,
That weares such petticoates, and lace to her smocks,
Broad seaming laces (as I see 'hem hang there)
And garters which are lost, if shee can shew 'hem,
Could ha' done this? Hell! why is shee so braue?
It cannot be to please Duke Dottrel, sure,
Nor the dull pictures, in her gallery,
Nor her owne deare reflection, in her glasse;
Yet that may be: I haue knowne many of 'hem,
Beginne their pleasure, but none end it, there:
(That I consider, as I goe a long with it)
They may, for want of better company,
Or that they thinke the better, spend an houre;
Two, three, or foure, discoursing with their shaddow:
But sure they haue a farther speculation.
No woman drest with so much care, and study,
Doth dresse her selfe in vaine. I'll vexe this probleme,
A little more, before I leaue it, sure.
| The Diuell is an Asse
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