Val. Yes marrie will I, but 'tis in anger yet, and I will marrie thee, do not cross me; yes, and I will lie with thee, and get a whole bundle of babies, and I will kiss thee, stand still and kiss me handsomely, but do not provoke me, stir neither hand nor foot, for I am dangerous, I drunk sack yesternight, do not allure me: Thou art no widow of this world, come in pitie, and in spite I'le marrie thee, not a word more, and I may be brought to love thee. [Exeunt.
Enter Merchant, and Uncle, at several doors.
Mer. Well met again, and what good news yet?
Unc. Faith nothing.
Mer. No fruits of what we sowed?
Unc. Nothing I hear of.
Mer. No turning in this tide yet?
Unc. 'Tis all flood, and till that fall away, there's no expecting.
Enter Fran. Isab. Lance, Shorthose, a torch.
Mer. Is not this his younger Brother?