Come wife, this is the Gentleman. Nay, bluſh not.
Mrs. Fi. Why, what do you meane Sir? ha’ you your reaſon?
Fit. Wife, I do not know, that I haue lent it forth To any one; at leaſt, without a pawne, wife: Or that I’haue eat or drunke the thing, of late, 5 That ſhould corrupt it. Wherefore gentle wife, Obey, it is thy vertue: hold no acts Of diſputation.
Mrs. Fi. Are you not enough The talke, of feaſts, and meetingy, but you’ll ſtill Make argument for freſh?
Fit. Why, carefull wedlocke, 10 If I haue haue a longing to haue one tale more Goe of mee, what is that to thee, deare heart? Why ſhouldſt thou enuy my delight? or croſſe it? By being ſolicitous, when it not concernes thee?
Mrs. Fi. Yes, I haue ſhare in this. The ſcorne will fall 15 As bittterly on me, where both are laught at.
Fit. Laught at, ſweet bird? is that the ſcruple? Come, come, Thou art a Niaiſe. A Niaiſe is a young Hawke, tane crying out of the neſt. Which of your great houſes, (I will not meane at home, here, but abroad) Your families in France, wife, ſend not forth 20 Something, within the ſeuen yeere, may be laught at? I doe not ſay ſeuen moneths, nor ſeuen weekes, Nor ſeuen daies, nor houres: but ſeuen yeere wife. I giue ’hem time. Once, within ſeuen yeere, I thinke they may doe ſomething may be laught at. 25 In France, I keepe me there, ſtill. Wherefore, wife, Let them that liſt, laugh ſtill, rather then weepe For me; Heere is a cloake coſt fifty pound, wife, Which I can ſell for thirty, when I ha’ ſeene All London in’t, and London has ſeene mee. 30 To day, I goe to the Black-fryers Play-houſe, Sit ithe view, ſalute all my acquaintance, Riſe vp betweene the Acts, let fall my cloake, Publiſh a handſome man, and a rich ſuite (As that’s a ſpeciall end, why we goe thither, 35 All that pretend, to ſtand for’t o’ the Stage) The Ladies aske who’s that? (For, they doe come [106] To ſee vs, Loue, as wee doe to ſee them) Now, I ſhall loſe all this, for the falſe feare Of being laught at? Yes, wuſſe. Let ’hem laugh, wife, 40 Let me haue ſuch another cloake to morrow. And let ’hem laugh againe, wife, and againe, And then grow fat with laughing, and then fatter, All my young Gallants, let ’hem bring their friends too: Shall I forbid ’hem? No, let heauen forbid ’hem: 45 Or wit, if’t haue any charge on ’hem. Come, thy eare, wife, Is all, I’ll borrow of thee. Set your watch, Sir, Thou, onely art to heare, not ſpeake a word, Doue, To ought he ſayes. That I doe gi’ you in precept, No leſſe then councell, on your wiue-hood, wife, 50 Not though he flatter you, or make court, or Loue (As you muſt looke for theſe) or ſay, he raile; What ere his arts be, wife, I will haue thee Delude ’hem with a trick, thy obſtinate ſilence; I know aduantages; and I loue to hit 55 Theſe pragmaticke young men, at their owne weapons. Is your watch ready? Here my ſaile beares, for you: Tack toward him, ſweet Pinnace, where’s your watch?
He diſpoſes his wife to his place, and ſets his watch.
Wit. I’le ſet it. Sir, with yours.
Mrs. Fi. I muſt obey.