Beard. Mistress, take the man:
Shall we be baffled with fair promises.
Or shall we trudge like beggars back again?
No, take this wise and virtuous man
Who, should he lose his legs, his arms, his ears,
His nose, and all his other members,
Yet if his tongue be left, 'twill get his living.
Take me this man.
Throat. Thanks, gentle Master Beard.
Fran. 'Tis impossible; this night he means to wed me.
Throat. If not by law, we will with pow'r prevent it,
So you but give consent.
Fran. Let's hear the means.
Throat. I'll muster up my friends, and thus I cast it:[372]
Whilst they are busy, you and I will hence
Directly to a chapel, where a priest
Shall knit the nuptial knot, ere they pursue us.
Beard. O rare invention! I will act my part;
He owes me thirteen pound, I say no more,
But there be catchpoles [Aside]; speak, is't a match?[373]
Fran. I give my liking.
Throat. Dash!
Dash. Sir.