Abi. You see no likelihood of that: would it not fain be in the haven? The word, Ut tangerem portum. Marry, for aught I know; God grant it. What’s there?
Tha. Mine’s an azure shield: marry, what else? I should tell thee more than I understand; but the word is, Aut pretio, aut precibus. 80
Abi. Ay, ay, some common-council device.
[They take the women, and dance the first change.
Men. Fair widow, how like you this change?
Lady Len. I chang’d too lately to like any.
Men. O your husband! you wear his memory like a death’s-head.
For Heaven’s love, think of me as of the man
Whose dancing days you see are not yet done.
Lady Len. Yet you sink a-pace,[191] sir.
Men. The fault’s in my upholsterer, lady.
Rog. Thou shalt as soon find Truth telling a lie, 90
Virtue a bawd, Honesty a courtier,
As me turn’d recreant to thy least design.
Love makes me speak, and he makes love divine.