Guard. Oh, had you heard him but protest.
Neece. I would not have believ'd him,
Thou might'st have perceiv'd how I mock'd thy folly.
In wanton imitation with the Fool,
Go weep the sin of thy credulity,
Not of thy loss, for it was never thine,
And it is gain to miss it; wert thou so dull?
Nay, yet thou'rt stupid and uncapable,
Why, thou wert but the bait to fish with, not
The prey, the stale to catch another Bird with.
Guard. Indeed he call'd me Bird.
Neece. Yet thou perceiv'st not,
It is your Neece he loves, wouldst thou be made
A stalking Jade? 'tis she examine it,
I'll hurry all awry, and tread my path
Over unbeaten grounds, go level to the mark,
Not by circular bouts, rare things are pleasing,
And rare's but seldom in the simple sence,
But has her Emphasis with eminence. [Exit.
Guard. My Neece? she the rival of my abuse?
My flesh and blood wrong me? I'll Aunt her for't;
Enter Mirabel.
Oh opportunity, thou blessest me
Now Gentlewoman are you parted so soon?
Where's your friend I pray? your Cuningam?
Mir. What say you Aunt?
Guard. Come, come, your Cuningame?
I am not blind with age yet, nor deaf.
Mir. Dumb I am sure you are not, what ail you Aunt?
Are you not well?