Fran. Your love is untimely sown; there 's a spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one: I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never to marry.
Zan. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands: yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when ambassadors are sent to congratulate princes, there 's commonly sent along with them a rich present, so that, though the prince like not the ambassador's person, nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment; so I may come to you in the same manner, and be better loved for my dowry than my virtue.
Fran. I 'll think on the motion.
Zan. Do; I 'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure, I 'll
tell you things shall startle your blood:
Nor blame me that this passion I reveal;
Lovers die inward that their flames conceal.
Fran. Of all intelligence this may prove the best:
Sure I shall draw strange fowl from this foul nest. [Exeunt.
SCENE II
Enter Marcello and Cornelia
Corn. I hear a whispering all about the court,
You are to fight: who is your opposite?
What is the quarrel?
Marc. 'Tis an idle rumour.
Corn. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well
To fright me thus: you never look thus pale,
But when you are most angry. I do charge you,
Upon my blessing—nay, I 'll call the duke,
And he shall school you.