Lil. Strike me another Galliard.
Pi. By this light I cannot;
In troth I have sprain'd my leg, Madam.
Lil. Now sit ye down, Sir,
And tell me why ye came hither, why ye chose me out?
What is your business? your errant? dispatch, dispatch!
'May be ye are some Gentlemans man, and I mistook ye,
That have brought me a Letter, or a haunch of Venison,
Sent me from some friend of mine.
Pi. Do I look like a Carrier?
You might allow me what I am, a Gentleman.
Lil. Cry 'ye mercie, Sir, I saw ye yesterday,
You are new come out of Travel, I mistook ye;
And how do all our impudent friends in Italie?
Pi. Madam, I came with duty, and fair courtesie,
Service, and honour to ye.
Lil. Ye came to jear me:
Ye see I am merry, Sir, I have chang'd my copy:
None of the Sages now, and 'pray ye proclaim it,
Fling on me what aspersion you shall please, Sir,
Of wantonness, or wildness, I look for it;
And tell the world I am an hypocrite,
Mask in a forc'd and borrow'd shape, I expect it;
But not to have you believ'd; for mark ye, Sir,
I have won a nobler estimation,
A stronger tie by my discretion
Upon opinion (how e're you think I forced it)
Than either tongue or art of yours can slubber,
And when I please I will be what I please, Sir,
So I exceed not Mean; and none shall brand it
Either with scorn or shame, but shall be slighted.
Lil. Love your self, Sir,
And when I want observers, I'll send for ye:
Heigh, ho; my fit's almost off, for we do all by fits, Sir:
If ye be weary, sit till I come again to ye. [Exit.
Pi. This is a wench of a dainty spirit; but hang me if I know yet
Either what to think, or make of her; she had her will of me,
And baited me abundantly, I thank her,
And I confess I never was so blur[t]ed,
Nor ever so abus'd; I must bear mine own sins;
Ye talk of Travels, here's a curious Country,
Yet I will find her out, or forswear my facultie. [Exit.