bedstaff,
For fear of her light fingers.

Marc. You 're a strumpet,
An impudent one. [Kicks Zanche.

Flam. Why do you kick her, say?
Do you think that she 's like a walnut tree?
Must she be cudgell'd ere she bear good fruit?

Marc. She brags that you shall marry her.

Flam. What then?

Marc. I had rather she were pitch'd upon a stake,
In some new-seeded garden, to affright
Her fellow crows thence.

Flam. You 're a boy, a fool,
Be guardian to your hound; I am of age.

Marc. If I take her near you, I 'll cut her throat.

Flam. With a fan of feather?

Marc. And, for you, I 'll whip
This folly from you.

Flam. Are you choleric?
I 'll purge it with rhubarb.

Hort. Oh, your brother!

Flam. Hang him,
He wrongs me most, that ought t' offend me least:
I do suspect my mother play'd foul play,
When she conceiv'd thee.

Marc. Now, by all my hopes,
Like the two slaughter'd sons of OEdipus,
The very flames of our affection
Shall turn two ways. Those words I 'll make thee answer
With thy heart-blood.

Flam. Do, like the geese in the progress;
You know where you shall find me.

Marc. Very good. [Exit Flamineo.
And thou be'st a noble friend, bear him my sword,
And bid him fit the length on 't.

Young Lord. Sir, I shall. [Exeunt all but Zanche.

Zan. He comes. Hence petty thought of my disgrace!
[Enter Francisco.
I ne'er lov'd my complexion till now,
'Cause I may boldly say, without a blush,
I love you.

Fran. Your love is untimely sown; there 's a spring at Michaelmas, but
'tis but a faint one: I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never to
marry.

Zan. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands: yet you may
mistake my wealth. For, as when ambassadors are sent to congratulate
princes, there 's commonly sent along with them a rich present, so
that, though the prince like not the ambassador's person, nor words,
yet he likes well of the presentment; so I may come to you in the same
manner, and be better loved for my dowry than my virtue.

Fran. I 'll think on the motion.

Zan. Do; I 'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure, I 'll
tell you things shall startle your blood:
Nor blame me th