Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.
Enter Host, Hostess, and Bianca.
Host.
Haunted, my house is haunted with goblins. I shall be frighted out of my wits, and set up a sign only to invite Carriers and Foot-posts; scar-crows to keep off the Cavalry, and Gentry of the best rank. I will nail up my doors, and wall up my Girle (wife) like an Anchoress; or she will be ravisht before our faces, by rascalls and cacafugo's (wife) cacafugo's.
Hostess. These are your In-comes, remember your own proverb, the savor of every gain smelt sweet; thank no body but your self for this trouble.
Host. No gauling (dear Spouse) no gauling, every days new vexation abates me two inches in the waste, terrible pennance for an Host, Girle, girle, girle, Which of all this gally-maufry of Mans flesh appears tolerable to thy choice; speak shortly, and speak truely: I must and will know, must and will; Hear ye that?
Bian. Sir, be not jealous of my care and duty;
I am so far from entertaining thoughts
Of liberty, that much more excellent objects
Than any of such course contents as these are,
Could not betray mine eye to force my heart;
Conceive a wish of any dearer happiness
Than your direction warrant's. I am yours Sir.
Hostess. What thinks the Man now? Is not this strange at 13.
Host. Very good words, there's a tang in e'm, and a sweet one, 'tis musick (wife) and now I come t'ee. Let us a little examine the several conditions of our Paragraphistical suitors. The first, a travelling Tailor, who by the mystery of his Needle and Thimble, hath survey'd the fashions of the French, and English; this Signior Ginger-bread, stitcht up in the shreds of a g[a]udy outside, sows Linings with his cross-leg'd complement, like an Ape doing tricks over a staffe, cringes, and crouches, and kisses his forefinger.
Hostess. Out upon him.