Eit. Alas! hee can doe nothing! this!
Wit. I’ll tell you, madame, I ſaw i’ the Court of Spaine once, A Lady fall i’ the Kings ſight, along, 80 And there ſhee lay, flat ſpred, as an Vmbrella, Her hoope here crack’d; no man durſt reach a hand To helpe her, till the Guarda-duenn’as came, VVho is the perſon onel’ allow’d to touch A Lady there: and he but by this finger. 85
Eit. Ha’ they no ſeruants, madame, there? nor friends?
Wit. An Eſcudero, or ſo madame, that wayts Vpon ’hem in another Coach, at diſtance, And when they walke, or daunce, holds by a hand-kercher, Neuer preſumes to touch ’hem.
Eit. This’s ſciruy! 90 And a forc’d grauity! I doe not like it. I like our owne much better.
Tay. ’Tis more French, And Courtly ours.
Eit. And taſts more liberty. VVe may haue our doozen of viſiters, at once, Make loue t’vs.
Tay. And before our husbands?
Eit. Huſband? 95 As I am honeſt, Tayle-buſh I doe thinke If no body ſhould loue mee, but my poore husband, I ſhould e’n hang my ſelfe.
Tay. Fortune forbid, wench: So faire a necke ſhould haue ſo foule a neck-lace.