Ant. To be imploy'd in any thing.
Pet. No Anthony,
Not any thing I take it; nor that thing
We travel to discover, like new islands;
A salt itch serve such uses; in things of moment
Concerning things, I grant ye, not things errant,
Sweet Ladies things, and things to thank the Surgeon;
In no such things, sweet Anthony, put case—
Ant. Come, come, all will be mended; this invisible woman
Of infinite report for shape and vertue,
That bred us all this trouble to no purpose,
They are determin'd now no more to think on,
But fall close to their studies.
Pet. Was there ever
Men known to run mad with report before?
Or wonder after [that] they know not where
To find? or if found, how to enjoy? are mens brains
Made now adays of malt, that their affections
Are never sober? but like drunken People
Founder at every new Fame? I do believe too
That men in love are ever drunk, as drunken men
Are ever loving.
Ant. Prithee be thou sober,
And know, that they are none of those, not guilty
Of the least vanity of love, only a doubt
Fame might too far report, or rather flatter
The Graces of this Woman, made them curious
To find the truth, which since they find so blocked
And lockt up from their searches, they are now setled
To give the wonder over.
Pet. Would they were setled
To give me some new shoos too: for I'll be sworn
These are e'en worn out to the reasonable souls
In their good worships business; and some sleep
Would not do much amiss, unless they mean
To make a Bell-man on me; and what now
Mean they to study, Anthony, moral Philosophy
After their mar-all women?
Ant. Mar a fools head.
Pet. 'Twill mar two fools heads and they take not heed,
Besides the Giblets to 'em.
Ant. Will you walk, Sir,
And talk more out of hearing? your fools head
May chance to find a wooden night-cap else.
Pet. I never lay in any.