Duc. I fear you'll fail in't.
Sil. And do not think my silence a presage,
Or Omen to my end, you shall not find it;
I am bred a Soldier not an Orator:
Madam, peruse this scrowl, let that speak for me,
And as you are Royal, wrong not the construction.
Dutch. By heaven you shall have fair play.
Sil. I shall look for't.
Question.
Tell me what is that only thing,
For which all women long;
Yet having what they most desire,
To have it do's them wrong.
Answer.
Tis not to be chaste, nor fair,
Such gifts malice may impair;
Richly trimm'd to walk or ride,
Or to wanton unespy'd;
To preserve an honest name,
And so to give it up to fame;
These are toys. In good or ill
They desire to have their Will;
Yet when they have it, they abuse it,
For they know not how to use it.
Dutch. You have answer'd right, and gain'd your life,
I give it.
Sil. Oh happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam,
Your promise ty'd a nobler favour to me.