Jul. Madam, I think a lusty handsome fellow
If he be kind, and loving, and a right one,
Is even as good a Pill, to purge this melancholy,
As ever Galen gave, I am sure more natural:
And merrier for the heart, than Wine and Saffron:
Madam, wanton youth is such a Cataplasme.
Alin. Who has been thy Tutor, Wench?
Jul. Even my own thoughts, Lady:
For though I be bar'd the liberty of talking,
Yet I can think unhappily, and as near the mark, Madam,
'Faith, marry, and be merry.
Alin. Who will have me?
Who will be troubled with a pettish Girl?
It may be proud, and to that vice expenceful?
Who can assure himself, I shall live honest?
Jul. Let every man take his fortune.
Alin. And o' my Conscience
If once I grow to breeding, a whole Kingdom
Will not contain my stock.
Jul. The more the merrier:
'Tis brave to be a mother of new Nations.
Alin. Why, I should bury a hundred Husbands.
Jul. 'Tis no matter!
As long as ye leave sufficient men to stock ye.
Alin. Is this thy mirth? are these the joyes of marriage?
Away light-headed fool; are these contentments?
If I could find a man—