Fred. Who will have her?
Evan. My tears are gone,
My tears of love to my dear Valerio,
But I have fill'd mine eyes again with anger;
O were it but so powerful to consume ye.
My tongue with curses I have arm'd against ye,
With Maiden curses, that Heaven crowns with horrors,
My heart set round with hate against thy tyranny;
O would my hands could hold the fire of Heaven,
Wrapt in the thunder that the Gods revenge with,
That like stern Justice I might fling it on thee;
Thou art a King of Monsters, not of men,
And shortly thou wilt turn this Land to Devils.
Fred. I'le make you one first, and a wretched Devil,
Come who will have her?
Law. I an't like your Majesty, I am a Lawyer,
I can make her a Joynture of any mans Land in Naples,
And she shall keep it too, I have a trick for it.
Fool. Canst thou make her a Joynture of thine honesty?
Or thy abili[t]y, thou lewd abridgment?
Those are non suted and flung o're the bar.
Phy. An't please your Majesty to give me leave,
I dare accept her; and though old I seem, Lady,
Like Æson, by my art I can renew youth and ability.
Fool. In a powdering Tub
Stew thy self tender again, like a Cock Chicken,
The broth may be good, but the flesh is not fit for dogs sure.
Capt. Lady, take me, and I'le maintain thine honour,
I am a poor Captain, as poor people call me,
Very poor people, for my Souldiers
They are quartered in the outside of the City,
Men of ability, to make good a high way;
We have but two grand Enemies that oppose us,
The Don Gout, and the Gallows.
Fool. I believe ye, and both these you will bind her for a Jointure;
Now Signior firk.
Cut-purse. Madam, take me and be wise,
I am rich and nimble, and those are rare in one man,
Every mans pocket is my Treasury,
And no man wears a Sute but fits me neatly;
Cloaths you shall have, and wear the purest Linnen,
I have a tribute out of every Shop, Lady,
Meat you shall eat, I have my Caters out too,
The best and lustiest, and drink good Wine, good Lady,
Good quickening Wine, Wine that will make you caper.
And at the worst—