Enter Zuccone, listening.
Herc. Peace! the wolf’s ear takes the wind of us.
Herod. The enemy is in ambush.
Zoy. If any man ha’ the wit, now let him talk wantonly but not bawdily. Come, gallants, who’ll be my servants? I am now very open-hearted and full of entertainment.
Herc. Grace me to call you mistress?
Nym. Or me?
Herod. Or me?
Sir Amor. Or me? 368
Zoy. Or all! I am taken with you all—with you all.
Herc. As, indeed, why should any woman only love any[188] one man, since it is reasonable women should affect all perfection,[189] but all perfection never rests in one man.