Pha. I'le sooner teach a Mare the old measures, than teach her any thing belonging to the function; she's afraid to lie with her self, if she have but any masculine imaginations about her; I know when we are married, I must ravish her.
Meg. By my honour, that's a foul fault indeed, but time and your good help will wear it out Sir.
Pha. And for any other I see, excepting your dear self, dearest Lady, I had rather be Sir _Tim _the Schoolmaster, and leap a Dairy-maid.
Meg. Has your Grace seen the Court-star Galatea?
Pha. Out upon her; she's as cold of her favour as an apoplex: she sail'd by but now.
Meg. And how do you hold her wit Sir?
Pha. I hold her wit? The strength of all the Guard cannot hold it, if they were tied to it, she would blow 'em out of the Kingdom, they talk of Jupiter, he's but a squib cracker to her: Look well about you, and you may find a tongue-bolt. But speak sweet Lady, shall I be freely welcome?
Meg. Whither?
Pha. To your bed; if you mistrust my faith, you do me the unnoblest wrong.
Meg. I dare not Prince, I dare not.