Enter Mirida.
S'death, here comes another—O, 'tis none
Of that gang, though.
Mir. I'll lay my head, ne'er a girl in Christendom
Of my age, can say what I can; I'm now
But five years i'th' teens, and I have fool'd
Five several men.
Phil. A brave wench, by this light!
Sure, it is I in petticoats.
Mir. My humour
Is to love no man, but to have as many
Love me as they please, come cut or long tail.
Phil. A most divine wench!
Mir. 'Tis a rare diversion, to see what several
Ways my flock of lovers have in being
Ridiculous; some of them sigh so damnably,
That 'tis as troublesome as a windy day.
There's two of them that make their love together,
By languishing eye-casts; one of them has
One eye bigger than another, and looks
Like a tumbler; and that eye's like a musket
Bullet, and I expect every minute when he
Will hit me with it, he aims so right at me.
My other lover looks a-squint, and to
See him cast languishing eyes, would make a
Woman with child miscarry. There is also
A very fat man, master Pinguister, and
A very lean man that loves me; I tell the
Fat man I cannot marry him till he's
Leaner, and the lean man I cannot marry
Him till he's fat: so one of them purges
And runs heats every morning, to pull down
His sides, and th' other makes his tailor stuff
His clothes to make him show fatter. O, what
Pleasure do I take in fooling of mankind!
Phil. Was there ever so witty a wench? 'tis the
Woman of women for my turn. I'll to her—
Thou most renowned female! I cannot hold—
Mir. From what?
Phil. From kissing thee, [from] loving thee, or what
Thou wilt.