Lam. You are very quick, Sir: no, I mean thus pleasant.
Mont. —Ever since I was poor.
Lam. A little wealth would change you then?
Mont. Yes Lady, into another suit, but never more
Into another man: I'll bar that mainly,
The wealth I get hence-forward shall be charm'd
For ever hurting me, I'll spend it fasting:
As I live noble Lady, there is nothing
I have found directly, cures the melancholy,
But want and wedlock; when I had store of money,
I simper'd sometime, and spoke wondrous wise,
But never laught out-right; now I am empty,
My heart sounds like a Bell, and strikes at both sides.
Lam. You are finely temper'd, Montague.
Mont. Pardon Lady, if any way my free mirth have offended,
'Twas meant to please you: if it prove too saucy,
Give it a frown, and I am ever silenc'd.
Lam. I like it passing well; pray follow it:
This is my day of choice, and shall be yours too,
'Twere pity to delay ye: call to the Steward,
And tell him 'tis my pleasure he should give you
Five hundred Crowns: make your self handsome Montague,
Let none wear better cloaths, 'tis for my credit;
But pray be merry still.
Mont. If I be not, and make a fool of twice as many hundreds,
Clap me in Canvas, Lady. [Exeunt.
Enter La-poop, Laverdine, and Malycorne.