Flor. Well.
Exit.
Bell. Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head [30] you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why, there can be nothing vnder the Sunne vanuable, to make you thus a minute.
Beau. Ah my sweete Bellapert thou Cabinet
To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause [35]
That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.
Bel. Vd’d-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue,
One way or other you shall crowne your will.
Would you haue him your husband that you loue,
And can’t not bee? he is your seruant though, [40]
And may performe the office of a husband.
Beau. But there is honor, wench.
Bell. Such a disease
There is in deed, for which ere I would dy.—
Beau. Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife.
Bell. Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children, [45]
Tother must beare no mans.
Beau. What is a husband?