Scena II.
Enter to them Sr. Timerous with
a Paper.
Conc.
Sr. Timerous Fear-all inches and inches to you
Iust like a Spy.
Fug.
And still he comes in secret
Least he be spied.
He steals to Fuga
and offers the Paper,
she refuses; Concup.
snatches and reades
it.
Conc.
What's this? a silent motion?
The Bill hung out will shew us what it is.
Lady, I dare not with the praise of arts
With any thing but Love assay your
parts;
Which are so rare, that when I strive to
write,
The scant Expression seems not Love
but spite.
Well wrot Sr. Tim.
Fug.
You cannot say well spoke.
Conc.
Can you not use your mouth? no way, Sr. Tim.?
Why do you love? you are not fit to love;
Think me your Mistresse; now addresse your selfe
In form befitting.
Tim.
Hum!
Conc.
I must make up
He offers to Salute
and steps back again;
she makes to him.
Your will with my performance.
Tim.
Hum—I fear
Fuga will frown.
Conc.
Thy Mother was a Fuga.
Nor give nor take? not in a faire Salute?
Tongue tide and Lip-bound too? O that it were
In fashion for my Sex, my Sex, to wooe.
Fug.
Lady, you seem to me in word and action
Too loose and open.
Conc.
My Complexion
Is I confesse the same with Messaline's;
We might have layn together in one Egg
As well a Helena and Clytemnestra.
To me no such desire as of our Like,
No Joy like Union. But your eares and age
Want breeding yet;
I'm sorry for offending:
I thought I knew my Sex; but if I do not,
I know my selfe.
