as studied duel too; take heed, he'll beat thee. H'as frighted
the old Justice into a Feaver; I hope he'll disinherit him too for an Ass;
for though he be grave with years, he's a great Baby.

_Char._ Do not you think me mad?

_Ang._ No certain, Sir, I have heard nothing from you but things
excellent.

_Char._ You look upon my cloaths, and laugh at me, my scurvy cloaths!

_Ang._ They have rich linings, Sir. I would your Brother--

_Char._ His are gold and gawdie.

_Ang._ But touch 'em inwardly, they smell of Copper.

_Char._ Can ye love me? I am an Heir, sweet Lady, however I appear a poor
dependent; love you with honour I shall love so ever. Is your eye
ambitious? I may be a great man; is't wealth or lands you covet? my Father
must die.

_Mir._ That was well put in, I hope he'll take it deeply.

_Char._ Old men are not immortal, as I take it; is it you look for, youth
and handsomness? I do confess my Brother's a handsome Gentleman, but he
shall give me leave to lead the way, Lady. Can you love for love, and make
that the reward? The old man shall not love his heaps of Gold with a more
doting superstition, than I'le love you. The young man his delights, the
Merchant, when he ploughs the angry Sea up and sees the mountain billows
falling on him, as if all the Elements, and all their angers, were turn'd
into one vow'd destruction; shall not with greater joy embrace his safety.
We'll live together like two wanton Vines, circling our souls and loves in
one another, we'll spring together, and we'll bear one fruit; one joy
shall make us smile, and one grief mourn; one age go with us, and one hour
of death shall shut our eyes, and one grave make us happy.

_Ang._ And one hand seal the Match, I'm yours for ever.

_Lew._ Nay, stay, stay, stay.

_Ang._ Nay certainly, 'tis done, Sir.

_Bri._ There was a contract.

_Ang._ Only conditional, that if he had the Land, he had my love too; this
Gentleman's the Heir, and he'll maintain it. Pray be not angry, Sir, at
what I say; or if you be, 'tis at your own adventure. You have the out-
side of a pretty Gentleman, but by my troth your inside is but barren;
'tis not a face I only am in love with, nor will I say your face is
excellent, a reasonable hunting face to court the wind with; nor they're
not words, unless they be well plac'd too, nor your sweet Dam-mes, nor
your hired Verses, nor telling me of Clothes, nor Coach and Horses, no nor
your visits each day in new Suits,