Jul. But I am glad you brought him not in, I being so unready.
Fran. But you are always ready for him, my dear victorious Man-slayer.
Jul. What means he, sure he has a Gad-bee in his Brain.
Fran. Satan’s she Advocate—peace, I say;—so, you look as innocently now, as a little Devil of two years old, I’ll warrant;—come, come, look me full in the face—thus,—turn your nose just to mine—so—now tell me whose damnable Plot this was, to send your Gallant with his Eloquence, Querks and Conundrums, to tutor me into better manners?
Jul. Send him! I’ll answer no such idle questions.
Fran. He has taken a world of pains about your particular Chapter, and no doubt but he preach’d according to instructions;—what say you for your self, that Judgment may not pass?
Jul. I say you’re an old jealous Fool; have I seen Don Carlos, or heard from Don Carlos, or sent to Don Carlos? here’s a-do indeed.
Fran. What made you at the door against my positive commands,—the very Street-door,—in the night,—alone,—and undrest,—this is a matter of Fact, Gentlewoman; you hastened me away,—a plain case,—and presently, after Don Carlos comes to the door,—positive proof,—sees me and falls right down upon my Jealousy,—clear conviction,—’twas pity but I had follow’d his counsel, yes, when the Devil turns student in Divinity;—but no matter, I’ll see your back fairly turn’d upon this Town to morrow; I’ll marry my Daughter in the morning to Antonio, and a fair wind or not, we’ll home; the Gally lies ready in the Harbour— therefore prepare, pack up your tools, for you are no woman of this world.
Ant. How! marry me to morrow to his daughter;—and carry his Wife from my Friend; this misfortune must be prevented. [Aside peeping.
Fran. And so, Mistress, come your ways to your Chamber.