Med. But to small[134] purpose. Sir Tristram, you have been
A man of reading, and on winter nights
You told me tales (for that was all[135] you did),
What strange adventures and what gallant acts
Redoubted knights did for their ladies' sakes;
But what did you for Medler all the while?
Did you e'er toss a pike or brandish blade
For her dear sake? Go to, I shall conceal,
And with a modest, bashful veil enshroud
What sense bids me discover. Let me, sir,
Advise you as a friend; for other styles,
Relating to an husband, I shall never
Henceforth resent them with a free comply:
Love suits not well with your decrepit age;
Let it be your chief care t' intend your health;
Use caudles, cordials, julips, pectorals;
Keep your feet warm; bind up your nape o' th' neck
Close against chilling airs, that you may live
An old man long; but take especial care
You button on your nightcap.
Mor. After th' new fashion
With his loave-ears[136] without it.
[Aside.
Med. This is all—
Only your absence.
Mor. So good night, Sir Tristram.
[Aside.
Sir Reu. Sweet Madam Tinder.
[Sir Reuben offers to kiss her.
Tin. Keep your distance, sir;
I love not to be touch'd.
Sir Reu. Are you so hot,
My tender tinder?