Hip. Why then,
You’re free for any man; if any, me.
But I must tell you, lady, were you mine,
You should be all mine; I could brook no sharers,
I should be covetous, and sweep up all.
I should be pleasure’s usurer; faith, I should.
Bell. O fate!
Hip. Why sigh you, lady? may I know?
Bell. ’Thas never been my fortune yet to single
Out that one man, whose love could fellow mine,
As I have ever wished it: O my stars!
Had I but met with one kind gentleman,
That would have purchased sin alone to himself,
For his own private use, although scarce proper,
Indifferent handsome: meetly legged and thighed:
And my allowance reasonable, i’faith,
According to my body, by my troth,
I would have been as true unto his pleasures,
Yea, and as loyal to his afternoons,
As ever a poor gentlewoman could be.
Hip. This were well now to one but newly fledged,
And scarce a day old in this subtle world:
’Twere pretty art, good bird-lime, cunning net,
But come, come, faith, confess: how many men
Have drunk this self-same protestation,
From that red ’ticing lip?
Bell. Indeed, not any.
Hip. Indeed? and blush not!
Bell. No, in truth, not any.
Hip. Indeed! in truth?—how warily you swear!
’Tis well: if ill it be not: yet had I
The ruffian in me, and were drawn before you
But in light colours, I do know indeed,
You could not swear indeed, but thunder oaths
That should shake Heaven, drown the harmonious spheres,
And pierce a soul, that loved her maker’s honour
With horror and amazement.
Bell. Shall I swear?—
Will you believe me then?