University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundus.

Scæna Prima.

Enter Marciano, a boy with him as in an Inn.
Exit Boy.
A chair set out.
takes a nap.

Enter boy hastily.
My Lord—the enemy—the enemy—Fly—Fly—Fly.

Exit boy running.
Marciano
bolts out of his chair.
Fly! Fly! avaunt with that base cowardly gibbrish;
That Algebra of honour; which had never
Been nam'd, if all had equal courage—what?
I fly! Poor rogue, 'had as good bid me dye.
(draws
I'le force my way, or make a noble end,
Valour does sometimes humane wit transcend.

Enter Souldiers, swords drawn, &c.
1. Soul.
This way—'tis he—take quarter.

Marc.
Quarter!—no slaves—I'le see your entrails first.
Thus Dogs—
fight, Sould. falls back, Marciano pursues.
Enter again hastily.
The hounds are now at a bay—
—No way t'escape—fortune, if not me,
Commiserate at least my Prince—I prize not
My life, if I must dye, transform my soul
Into some loyal breast,—I dye contented.
Enter Soul. as before.
There again—villains, are you so bold
—This Sword shall tame you—

falls back as before, Marciano pursues.
A noyse within. Enter Borasco, Souldiers with them, Marciano prisoner.
Bor.
Sir, your noble courage hath oblidged our care,
The tearms of your surrender shall be observed
Faithfully—now to horse—

Marc.
I do obey, Sir, for with such as you
A word does more, then oaths with cowards do.

Exeunt omnes.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Manduco, with Signior Becabunga, knock at the door, &c.
Man.
Ho—who is within there?

Enter Boy.
Boy.
Your servant Gentlemen.

Man.
Is the Lady Marionetta within?

Boy.
Yes Sir, Pray what are you, who demands?

Man.
Why, here is Signior Becabunga newly come to town—
But heark you, is she occupyed?

Boy.
How Sir.

Man.

Profane Fellow—I mean, is she not busie—that is to
say, at leasure?

Boy.

O, yes—please you walk in.

Man.

Yes—yes—heus—ingrediamur.

Exeunt.
Enter again at the other end, chairs set.
Boy.

Please you to walk here a little, while I go call the
Ladies

Exit.
Man.

Remember now, when you are in private to propone
matrimony with a great deal of ceremony, and for your complements,
you may call her the Lady that triumphs in the Coach-box
of your affections, a bewitching Syren, a beautifull Thais, and so
forth, as occasion offers. Praise her hair, her eyes, her ears, her
breasts, &c. There is abundance of choice epithetes to be had, you
may say her face is like a Print-book of divers characters, that puzles
the reader, her nose like the style of a Dyal, her eyes like Stars, her
hair like Gold, her teeth like Ivory, her veins like silk, and her breasts
like milk, and so forth, as I said before:—you'l remember on
this now.

Bec.

Yes, yes, I warrand you, I shall remember—let me see
now, her breasts, her shoulders, her toes, her fingers, her nayls
and her nose—But hark you, must I say nothing of her
cloaths?

Man.

How come you to say that now?

Bec.

Why? her nose makes me remember on it.

Man.

—So—so—come, fall upon the
Ladyes—go—I say.

Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, Bec. Salutes. &c
Bec.

Ladyes, I am indeed glad to see you now.

Man.

Ladyes, I am your devotionated devotionary.

Mar.

You are welcome to Town Sir.

Bec.

Protest, Ladyes, I am your humble servant.

Man.

As before, nam cœlum non animum mutat.

Man. prompts him behind his back
Bec.

As before, nam cœlos non animus mutat.

Man. prompts him behind his back
Man.

You are wrong—Say—I did long vehemently to see you
—as one in child-bed.

Bec.

I did long vehemently to see you in child-bed.

Man.

A meer brutum animall!

Man. retires in a rage
Bec.

What's the matter, Sir, did not I say
very well now.

Becabunga followes him
Man.

No—it was altogether sinistruous, I have effodiate
the treasure of my brain in educating you,—and yet for all that
you are a meer ignoramus.

Bec.

O—I will do well enough yet—Pray, tell me what I
should say, for the Ladyes are waitting upon me.

Man.

No—I will complement them my self—speak not you
—ne vel unum gru.

Ladyes, This gentelman is newly arrived at Florence the desuetude
of amorous conversation, with the assuetude of rurall excercises
have so, as I may say, confounded his intellectuals, that if he hesitate
in the pronunciation, he hopes you will meerly attribute it to
his campestriall, trimestriall perigrination.

Chrys.

We not only excuse you, Sir, but likewise account our
selves honoured by your visit—Pray sit down Sir.

Man.

Yes, yes, without ceremony.

Bec. sits down by Mar Man sits betwixt the Ladyes.
Bec.

Why—I think, you are silent, Madam.

Mar.

I love not to prate Sir.

Bec.

Nor I either.

Man.

Nay so long as he was under my ferula; I did labour to
coerce in him that loquacious verbosity, or rather ve bosious loquacity,

with which most part of the perverse temporary adolescency
is contaminate, for I hate garrulity, as I am facundious,
I do.

Bec.

I vow, Madam, you are very bony, since I
see you last—O, I have had rare pastime in the
Man. takes a pype of tobacco.
country this harvest, brave hunting, and hawking of hares; and
but the last day comming in to the Town, I tooke a couple of them
by the way. O, Madam, you will not beleeve what brave sport
wee have now. I wonder why you have stay'd in city all this
while?

Mar.

What should we have done in the country, Sir, hunted,
and hawked as you doe?

Man.

I hope this does not offend you, Madam.

Chrys.

Not
at all, Sir.

Man.

I should be loath to offend any
man, but I am without ceremony.

Smoakes in Chrys. face Smoakes in Mar. face.
Mar.

Ose your own liberty, Sir.

Man.

Nay, I do it to draw down reuthm from my brain, with
which my lungs are much infested: for, d'you see, 'tis a very salutiferous
herbe: it disposes the minde for study, and moves in severall
places; I will show you what by it's help I made last night;
marry a sonnet upon a Lady, whose beauty had almost tempted me
to affect her.—She walk'd sings
. Nay; hold, I have a good
voice for writing, but not for reading. I will read then.

Sonnet
Man. arises.

—But heark you, Madam, I beleeve 'tis now time wee should
leave them to their private confabulation.

Chrys.

Yes Sir, with all my heart.

Man.

One word then with this Gentelman, and I am gone—
Heus, be attentious and circumspectious in your behaviour, remember
on those elegantes phrases I taught you when you came in: so
I will retire, and leave you for a space.

Exit with Chrys.
Bec.

Now wee are all alone, Madam, I hope you know my errand.

Mar.

Not well Sir.

Bec.

I am sure, my Father said he caused the Lady Saromanca.
speak to you, or else I am deceived.

Mar.

But you had best speak to my Uncle, Sir; I am at his disposall.

Bec.

You are very modest.

Offers to kisse, she refuses.
Mar.

And I hope that is a vertue in a maid, Sir.

Bec.

As I am a virgin, it is; I love you all the better for it:
and I'le assure you so long as you are modest, you can never be impudent.

Enter Boy,

Madam, Signior Pantaloni is below, shall I tell him you are
within?

Mar.

Yes, yes, by all means, you must not deny us to such a
Gentleman of quality as he is.

Bec.

Signior Pantaloni, say you, my old comrade, I would be
very glad to see him.

Mar.

He is in suite of my Sister, a Gentelman of a great estate,
I am much for the match; I'le go cause my Sister come hither.

At the other end enter Signior Pantaloni, Bec. salutes him.
Bec.

Signior Pantaloni!

Pant.

Signior Becabunga—welcome to Town in good faith.—
Yow are very gallant.

Surveyes Bec. cloaths.
Bec.

—It is my winter suite, Sir, it cost my Father a good
deal of money, more then the price of ten bolls of wheat, or barley,
I warrand you.

Pant.

I am sure, you have had brave sport in the country all
this while.

Bec.

O yes; you know my dog Springo?

Pant.

Yes, and Gasto, graybitcho, brounboundo, and all the tribe
of them: I knew them all since they were puppets, and your
self too.

Bec.

Why, I will let him loose with any his match in
Tuscany.

Pant.

O what a fool was I, might not I have been with you
all this while, if it had not been for this baggagely Mistris of mine,
Madam Chrysolina, call you her, whom my Mother will have me
to woo whether I will or not, I may say; I had been in the country
all this harvest.—But, what shall I tell you, have not I learn'd
since I see you to dance forsooth—that's a coupee—
that's a circumflex pas: that's a transverse pas &c.

frisks about
Bec.

O brave Pantaloni!

Enter Manduco leading the Ladyes.
Pant.

I, but I can fence too—zeest—zeest—zeest

Thrusts at Bec.
Pant.

Ladyes, I hope I have not com'd in into you
Discover the Ladyes.
as I may say intrusiously, or intrusively.

Chrys.

Not at all Sir, you are very welcome, pray how does your
Lady mother, and your Sisters?

Pant.

All in good health, Madam, at your service—Signior
Manduco, you are welcome to Town.

Man.

Signior Pantaloni, I am yours integrally, and quasi exulto
in the prosperity of this our congression.

Enter Boy.

Madam, the two Gentelmen you call Casio and Leonardo desire
to see you.

Mar.

Go tell them we are not within.

Chrys.

Tell them we are not at leasure, Sirrah.

Exit Boy.
Man.

What are they?

Pant.

Ranting, young blades, like the times, I warrand you,
two fellows, that have frequented all your Stage-playes in Italy,
and I heard our Chaplain say; and my Sister too (which is more)
that Playes were very unlawfull and impious.—

Man.

Playes are indeed profane, scelerate, abominable, yea,
abominably abominable—which I will maintain multis argumentis.

Pant.

Besides, they are great mockers of such Gentlemen as
us, who are better then themselves.

Man.

Are they of the Dukes party?

Pant.

Yes, I warrand you.

Man.

Hoc satis est—odi totam gentem: Ladies, you do well
not to converse with them—but no more of them: Ladies, what
would you think of a perambulation in this calid, æstivous season?

Chrys.

But whether shall we walk, Sir?

Pant.

Any where, Madam, I shall wait upon you.

Bec.

And, I shall stick close to my Lady, forsooth.

Mar.

Wee'l have a coach then.

Bec.

By all means—call a Coach.

within, Coach, &c.
Man.

Let us then passe the Pomeridian hours in obambulation:
for I am defatigate with session.

Exeunt omnes.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Borasco with Arabella prisoner.
Ar.
Good my Lord, for the respect to honour,
Prove courteous to a poor distressed Lady,
And now your prisoner—

Bor.
My prisoner—Not, by this hand, so much,
As I am yours.

(kisses her hand.
Ar.
I should belye my passion, Sir, if I,
Next to the publike destiny of my Country,
Did not resent my own calamity;
But yet your undeserved clemency
Does moderate my misfortunes—

Bor.
How! undeserved—when even Cannibals,
Tam'd by the aspect of your radiant eye,
Would quit their barb'rous, superstitious rites,
And offer, what their gods usurp, to you.

Ar.
Sir, I owe much, I must confess, to nature,
But your applause inflames the bill more high,
'Tis now our common fate to be imprison'd,
But not so common to be thus respected.

Bor.
Lady, what the Lord Barbaro hath ordain'd
I hold it alwayes justice—but because
Your face does speak you one, whom all should honour,
That e're have known what love is, I regrate
This your confinement; the causes of which
Are only known to his excellency,
(Enter Iaylor.
Time will discover all—but here he comes
Who must be your guardian—Sirrah—

Jayl.
Your pleasure, my Lord?

Bor.
By order from the Senate, you'r commanded
To take this Lady in your custody—
See you respect her, Sirrah,—let her not
Be us'd, as other ordinary prisoners.
Mark what I say, you varlet—serve her well.

Jayl.

I shall, forsooth, my Lord, she shall be as well us'd as
any Lady can be in prison.

Bor.
Madam, I'le visit you sometimes, and see
You treated, like an honourable Lady.
This Fellow shall have special care of you,
Command him at all times; and for my service,
Pray spare it not—farewell—she is my prisoner,
(aside.
I shall have fit time yet t'impart my flames.

Exit.
Jayl.

Now, forsooth, Madam, will you be pleased to walk—
I'le conduct you to as neat, a wel-swipp'd, wel-trimm'd Room,
as you can have in many parts of Florence: My Lord Borasco
is a very obliging Gentleman, and I'le assure you, he loves to be
courteous; I will have a care of you for his sake; my Wife, and
I (I must have you acquaint with her, Madam) for she is one of the
loving'st, dutifull, old Sluts, that you have known—

Ar.

Come then, let's go—

Jayl.

—My Wife and I, I say, Madam, shall serve you to a
hair, for she loves to be courteous, as well as my self,

Ar.
Where are my Countrymen lodg'd? I rather
Be with them, as elsewhere—

Jayl.
A Pisan, Madam?

Ar.
No—a Siennois.
There are many Siennois Nobles in my custody.

Ar.
The Lord Marciano: since 'tis my misfortune
To be his Fellow-prisoner.

Jayl.

Madam, you shall see him, for I love to be courteous,
especially to strangers, Madam.

Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber.
Mar.

How did you like our last entertainment, Sister?

Chrys.

Indifferently well; I love that same Gentleman,
Signior Becabunga: he is none of your ranting young
Gallants, but a sober youth as is in all Florence.

Mar.

'Tis true, but yet—

Chrys.

—What—don't you love him, Sister? you are a
fool if you let such a fair occasion slip—such a fine Woodcock is
not start every day:—he hath a great Estate, Sister, remember
that.

Mar.

'Tis all true—

Chrys.

I, and he will not readily spend it; his Tutor, Manduco,
hath bred him very sparingly—honest man, I protest he is
an honest man:—yea, a very honest man.

Mar.

He is indeed—

Chrys.

And then, Sister, you may have a very contented life
with him; he is a good-natur'd, sweet youth, he will give you
all your will, and I'l assure you that is a great property in a man.

Mar.

—And what think you of your own Suitor, Pantaloni,
all this while?

Enter Cassio, Leonardo, quietly.
Chrys.

Why—I know not what I shall
say of him yet.

Mar. discovers them.
Mar.

Goodness! how came they here?

Chrys. starts back, amazed.
Leon.

Nay, my pretty Daphne, fly not my
embraces, I know we have surprised you now.

Cass.

What pretty intrigue of love was the object of your discourse,
pray let us be sharers with you in your entertainment.

Leon.

My life for't, you were devising some stratagem, how to
crosse the designs of some affectionat Votary: you have no pity
on our Sex now a dayes, Ladies.

Cass.

None, indeed, if you were not visible in this age, then we
should not love: but, when we once conceive flames of affection

for you, in lieu of fomenting us in our delights, you make love a
disease to us by your unmercifull nicety, which deprives us altogether
of your conversation: this is sad, Ladies; trust me 'tis
sad.

Mar.

You wrong our Sex, Sir.

Chrys.

But, d'you hear, Sir, seriously I intreat you would forbear
such visits; for, you will but give people occasion to talk of
what we never thought on.

Mar.

And besides, Sir, those who challenge power over us will
be offended at this entertainment: we intreat you then, Gentlemen,
to leave us.

Cass.
(to Mar.)

Farewell then, cruel beauty, but do not imagine
such a harsh repulse will stop the current of my
boundless love; absence shall never prove so fatal: but
while my breath shall demonstrate that I live, this
heart, this speech and this hand shall demonstrate that
I love you. Farewell bright star of my fancy.

Exit.
Leon.
(to Chrys.)

Such a fair Lady cannot be so cruel, I will not
take this answer as a repulse, but rather construe it the
most favourable way. Farewell, time, I hope, shall
melt the severity of your resolutions.

Exit.
Chrys.

Farewell my ranting gamsters, we are not meat for your
mouths.—What foolish people have we in our house, Sister, to
admit them Gentlemen?—why, they came in upon us while we
were serious.

Mar.

Yes, Sister, and if one of us had been commenting on the
Piss-pot, it had been all one to them, when doors are left open.

Chrys.

And knowing that our friends cannot endure them, they
should, at least, in conscience, have denied them access. O! how I
shall baffle them same wenches that did not look to our Chamber
door better.

Mar.

I protest, Sister, we must marry quickly, otherwayes we
shall be constantly infested with such importunate Suitors; and
that, in my opinion, is no great pleasure to a woman, it distracts
their spirits, me thinks.

Chrys.

You say right, Sister, wee shall never be well, untill
we be even well marryed.

Exeunt.

Scæna Quinta.

Enter Borasco, with Arabella in prison.
Bor.
Lady, I have at length obtain'd that favour
Of the Lord Barbaro, you may go abroad
To any part o'th citty that you please.
Providing you return hither at night—

Ar.
My Lord, I thank you kindly, I find you have
Exceeded in your favours, since I came
Into this prison: you have (without flattery)
Even overacted courtesie to me—

Bor.
I plead not so for every one, but you
May challenge my respects:—the power I have
As captain of the Guards, shall be employed
To serve you, Madam, as you please command me.

Ar.
Then 'pray, my Lord, 'mongst others, grant me this,
To see the Lord Marciano.

Bor.
Madam, I shall conduct you to his Chamber,
Or, if you please, he shall come hither to you.

Ar.
No, I will go to him.

Exeunt.

Scæna Sixta.

At the other end enter Marciano, with him the Jaylor,
Mar.
A Lady, say'st thou?

Jayl.
Yes, my Lord, a young Lady.

Marc.
A Lady, and a Siennois,—strange!
Who can this be!—but now I have a thought,
Yet I dare not expresse it—can it be!
No, sure—impossible—prethee begone,
And leave me to my self—

Jayl.
She will be here by and by, my Lord.
Exit Jayl.

Marciano solus.
Marc.
Well, who this Lady is, I cannot think,
But in a dreame:—O, may I yet imagine,
'Tis she—Nay, hold—my hope cannot support
Enter Arabella quietly.
Such a strong thought of blesse! I shall offend
Even in thinking—
Marciano discovers her.
—A cheat—a meer cheat—eyes do not gull me.
The Lady Arabella!—No, unlesse
I heare her talk,—I'l think it still a phantasme
Approaches to her.
—Speak fair ghost—is it thee?

Ar.
Marciano, it is I, the unfortunat Arabella.

Marc.
Then it is no more I—O—how I am
Embraces her.
Transported! how that divine voyce hath ravished
My duller senses!—is't possible, you weep
In sympathy with my afflictions?

Ar.
Yea altogether.

Marc.
Good gods! it is she—O does Arabella,
Embraces again.
Who, while I was in full prosperity,
Did frown upon my Passions: stoop so low,
As see me now in misery—unlesse
She mean, as children, with their hobby-horses,
T'unravell me, that she may thereby see
What stuff I do contain:—dare I presume
To think that love to me hath brought you hither?

Ar.
Most true—nought else—

Marc.
Fair innocence, whose presence does revive
My spirits in this agony of sorrowes,
While I am coop'd up, as a parrot, here,
Expecting every day, when Atropos
Shall cut my threed of life; that you should daigne,
To visit me! had your fair hand dispatch'd
One word in post, it had been too great honour.
But thus to be thy own Embassadour,
Tis a bewitching happinesse; no tongue
Can well expresse my passion—good, my stars
Preserve me from an extasie!—

Ar.
You wrong me, Marciano, I left Siena,
Hearing of your bad successe; thence I came
To Luca; there not finding you, to Florence,
To see if I could purchase your enlargement,
Either by art, or favour: but no sooner
Was I come hither, when I was suspected
As one, who keep't secret intelligence
With the Dukes party here, and so committed—

Marc.
—Committed—how!—committd—heathnish wretches!
Barbarous Rebells! to imprison one,
Whom Indians had spar'd,—By Mars—unheard of
Even amongst Turks, and Tartars!

Ar.
Nay forbear,
I am not so unfortunate, as you think,
The Senate meaning thus to punish me
Have rather cherish'd me:—your company
May well allay my griefs.

Marc.
By this—and this—
Kisses her hand.
You honour me too much, but which is sad,
I never shall be able to repay
That love to you, which I owe, seing every hour
I doe expect my sentence—

Ar.
Alas! harsh fates! O frail reward of courage!

Enter Jaylor.
Jayl.
Madam, my duty bears me to conduct you to your
Chamber, it is now high time.

Ar.
My Lord, adieu, I shall see you to morrow.

Marciano Solus.
Exit with Jayl.
Marc.
Farewell, my souls delight,—O unkind Stars!
A fit theatre for such entertainement!
An embleme of our love!—But I exclaim
Unseasonably.—O how prettily
Fortune hath tyed me, as a Shrove-tide bird,
While Saturne, Mars and Cupid levell at me:
—A fig for all her tricks—I scorn her frown,
She can win nothing, while my hearts my own.

Exit.

Scæna Septima.

Enter Strenuo with the Jaylor.
Stren.

Is he sentenced already?

Jayl.

No, not yet; but he must die.

Stren.

Well—let him go, 'twill learn others to be wise, friend;
for, Souldiers have but shrewd arrears paid them now for their
service.

Jayl.

I am really sorry for him; as I am true Florentine he is
a noble Genteman, and loves to be courteous—

Stren.

But, d'you hear, Mr. Jaylor, shall we have t'other cup
the night?

Jayl.

I—at the Siena Tavern, Signior Strenuo, where we
may have a cup of good Canary; I am for you there, Signior Strenuo,
and will spend my checquin most heartily, Signior; for, I love
to be frolique as well as courteous, especially with strangers, Signior.

Stren.

—Come then, brave old Boy, we'll have a cup o'th best
on't. Will you go along now and I'l give you your morning
draught?

Jayl.

No—not now; I must wait upon my Lord Borasco,
he sent word that he would be here by and by.

Stren.

Farewell then—at night—old Hary—at night.

Exit Stren.

Jayl.

Yes, yes, I shall not fail you Signior, I warrand you. This
same Strenuo is a notable fellow, as ever I knew of a Siennois: he
loves to be courteous, effaith.

Enter Borasco with Souldiers.
Bor.
See it be done, I say, the Senate means
To whip most of your stubborn Siennois,
By his example—sirrah, Jaylor.

Jayl.
My Lord.

Bor.
The Lord Marciano is condemn'd to die—

Jayl.
The time, my Lord—

Bor.
Within six dayes, no more respite—
Here are the Generals orders for it.
—Sirrah, look to your prisoner, watch him well.
I'l double all the ordinary guards
About the prison; place my Sentinels
In every corner—

Jayl.
I shall watch him, my Lord, I'l assure you,

Bor.
As you will answer us: now he shall die.
Although he hath escap'd sometimes before,
His worship shall play fast and loose no more.

Exeunt omnes.

Scæna Octava.

Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber.
Chrys.

I profess ingenuously, Sister, I am ashamed of it.

Mar.

And I likewise; for people give easily credit to
any report now a dayes.

Mar.

Let's rather be uncivil as admit them next time, Sister:
I love no such company, I'l assure you.

Enter Signior Pantaloni.
Pant.

Ladies, I am come to wait upon you again—according
to my duty—as in duty I am bound to undertake.

Chrys.

Sir, you are very welcome, I hope your mother is well.

Pant.

Yes, so sooth, Madam, how does your self?

Chrys.

In very good health, Sir, I thank you.

Pant.

I am very glad—But, hark you, Madam—one word
in private with you— to Mar.
This by your leave Mistris.

leads her aside.

Hark you me now—my mother and I were sitting by the
fire side last night, as it is our custom, you know, in the winter-nights
after supper; and—I do not know what we were talking
of: but, amongst the rest I remember, if I have not forgot,—
that she said—the said, sayes she—Now—whether this

be true or not, I cannot tell; you know best your self: but, I am
sure she said it.

Chrys.

What, pray Sir?

Pant.

Now—I vow—if it were true, I would be as glad of
it, as ever I was of my break fast in a cold day:—for, I protest
ingenuously, I am sure you know, I love to be serious.

Chrys.

Pray what's the matter, Sir?

Pant.

Why—I vow I know you would blush now, else I
would tell you it.

Chrys.

I beseech you resolve me, Sir.

Pant.

I vow, I can hardly do it now, I am so stupified—
with the rarity of the object of your person.

kisses her hand.
Chrys.

I can have no longer patience—

Pan.

—Nay, hold—here's it now—I hope you will not
tell it again; for it was told me as a great secret—why sayes
she—but, as I told you, I know not surely if it be true or not:
but, shall I tell you what I answered—Marry, Lady mother,
sayes I—I fear you are but scorning me.

Chrys.

But, what was it that she said, Sir?

Pant.

Why—I vow—she—even said—that—you loved
me—and O but I was blyth—

Chrys.

Hum—and is that all? keep such a long discourse for
nothing.

Pant.

O!—I hope you are not angry.

Chrys.

No, no, Sir.

Mar.

Why—you might have said all that in three words,
Sir.

Pant.

Nay—but prethee tell me if it be true: for, if it be not,
I shall win two Ryals from my mother: for, she and I laid a wager
upon it, and I am come here for nothing else but to be resolved of it.

Mar.

Well—then, you have win, Sir.

Pant.

Nay—do not mock me now; I prosess, I had rather
lose a dozen of Ryals before she should not love me: for, I am
sure—as sure as this glove is upon my hand—I love her.

Enter Boy.
Boy.

Madam, dinner is ready.

Chrys.

We come. Signior, will you dine with us, and—afterwards
we shall talk of that at more leasure.

Pant.

With all my heart, fair Ladyes, If you please, I will
sup with you, and lye with you too—I love your company so
well.

Exeunt omnes.