Enter Lilia Biancha.
Lil. Are ye ready?
Belleur is coming on, here, hard behind me,
I have no leisure to relate my Fortune.
Only I wish you may come off as handsomely,
Upon the sign you know what. [Exit.
Ros. Well, well, leave me.
Enter Belleur.
Bel. How now?
Ros. Ye are welcome, Sir.
Bel. 'Tis well ye have manners:
That Court'sie again, and hold your Countenance stai'dly;
That look's too light; take heed: so, sit ye down now,
And to confirm me that your Gall is gone,
Your bitterness dispers'd, for so I'll have it:
Look on me stedfastly, and whatsoe'r I say unto ye,
Move not, nor alter in your face, ye are gone then:
For if you do express the least distaste,
Or shew an angry wrinkle, mark me, woman,
We are now alone, I will so conjure thee;
The third part of my Execution
Cannot be spoke.
Ros. I am at your dispose, Sir.
Bel. Now rise, and woo me a little, let me hear that faculty:
But touch me not, nor do not lie I charge ye.
Begin now.
Ros. If so mean and poor a Beauty
May ever hope the Grace.