Aur. Then we’ll agree. 128
[Ferneze takes Maquerelle and Celso Bianca: then the cornets sound the measure, one change, and rest.
Fer. [to Bianca.] Believe it, lady; shall I swear? let me enjoy you in private, and I’ll marry you, by my soul.
Bian. I had rather you would swear by your body: I think that would prove the more regarded oath with you.
Fer. I’ll swear by them both, to please you.
Bian. O, damn them not both to please me, for God’s sake! 136
Fer. Faith, sweet creature, let me enjoy you to-night, and I’ll marry you to-morrow fortnight, by my troth, la.
Maq. On his troth, la! believe him not; that kind of cony-catching is as stale as Sir Oliver Anchovy’s perfumed[571] jerkin: promise of matrimony by a young gallant, to bring a virgin lady into a fool’s paradise; make her a
great woman, and then cast her off;—’tis as common and[572] natural to a courtier, as jealousy to a citizen, gluttony to a puritan, wisdom to an alderman, pride to a tailor, or an empty hand-basket[573] to one of these sixpenny damnations: of his troth, la! believe him not; traps to catch pole-cats.
Mal. [to Maria]. Keep your face constant, let no sudden passion
Speak in your eyes.