M[e]r. Well Sir, you know my love, and rest, I hope
Assur'd of my consent; get but my daughters,
And wed her when you please: you must be bold,
And clap in close unto her, come, I know
You have language good enough to win a wench.
Wife. A whoresone tyrant,
Hath been an old stringer in his days,
I warrant him.
Hum. I take your gentle offer, and withal
Yield love again for love reciprocal.
Enter Luce.
M[e]r. What Luce, within there?
Luce. Call'd you Sir?
Mer. I did
Give entertainment to this Gentleman,
And see you be not froward: to her, Sir:
My presence will but be an eye-soar to you. [Exit.
Hum. Fair Mistriss Luce, how do you, are you well?
Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell,
How doth your little Sister, and your Brother?
And whether you love me or any other.
Luce. Sir, these are quickly answer'd.
Hum. So they are,
Where Women are not cruel: but how far
Is it now distant from the place we are in,
Unto that blessed place your Fathers Warren.