Pi. Is she not very angry?
Ser. You'l find that quickly:
May be she'll call ye sawcy scurvey fellow,
Or some such familiar name: 'may be she knows ye,
And will fling a Piss-pot at ye, or a Pantofle,
According as ye are in acquaintance: if she like ye,
'May be she'll look upon ye, 'may be no,
And two moneths hence call for ye.
Pinac. This is fine.
She is monstrous proud then?
Ser. She is a little haughtie;
Of a small body, she has a mind well mounted.
Can ye speak Greek?
Pinac. No, certain.
Ser. Get ye gone then;
And talk of stars, and firmaments, and fire-drakes.
Do you remember who was Adams School-master,
And who taught Eve to spin? she knows all these,
And will run ye over the beginning o'th' world
As familiar as a Fidler.
Can ye sit seven hours together, and say nothing?
Which she will do, and when she speaks, speak Oracles;
Speak things that no man understands, nor her self neither.
Pi. Thou mak'st me wonder.
Ser. Can ye smile?
Pi. Yes willingly:
For naturally I bear a mirth about me.
Ser. She'l ne'r endure ye then; she is never merry;
If she see one laugh, she'll swound past Aqua vitæ:
Never come near her, Sir; if ye chance to venture,
And talk not like a Doctor, you are damn'd too;
I have told enough for your crown, and so good speed ye. [Ex.