Eust. Songs she may have, and read a little unbak'd Poetry, such as the Dablers of our time contrive, that has no weight nor wheel to move the mind, nor indeed nothing but an empty sound; she shall have cloaths, but not made by Geometry; Horses and Coach, but of no immortal Race: I will not have a Scholar in my house above a gentle Reader; they corrupt the foolish Women with their subtle Problems; I'le have my house call'd ignorance, to fright prating Philosophers from Entertainment.
Cow. It will do well, love those that love good fashions, good cloaths, and rich; they invite men to admire 'em, that speak the lisp of Court. Oh 'tis great Learning! to Ride well, Dance well, Sing well, or Whistle Courtly, they're rare endowments; that they have seen far Countreys, and can speak strange things, though they speak no truths, for then they make things common. When are you marri'd?
Eust. To morrow, I think; we must have a Masque, Boys, and of our own making.
Egre. 'Tis not half an hours work, a Cupid, and a Fiddle, and the thing's done: but let's be handsome, shall's be Gods or Nymphs?
Eust. What, Nymphs with Beards?
Cow. That's true, we'll be Knights then; some wandring Knights, that light here on a sudden.
Eust. Let's go, let's go, I must go visit, Gentlemen, and mark what sweet lips I must kiss to morrow. [Exeunt.
ACTUS II. SCENA III.
Enter Cook, Andrew, Butler,
Cook. And how do's my Master?