have in such neat poetry, gathered a kiss,
That if I had but five lines of that number,
Such pretty begging blanks, I should commend
Your fore-head, or your cheeks, and kiss you too.

_Pha_. Do it in prose; you cannot miss it Madam.

_Meg_. I shall, I shall.

_Pha_. By my life you shall not.
I'le prompt you first: Can you do it now?

_Meg_. Methinks 'tis easie, now I ha' don't before;
But yet I should stick at it.

_Pha_. Stick till to morrow.
I'le ne'r part you sweetest. But we lose time,
Can you love me?

_Meg_. Love you my Lord? How would you have me
love you?

_Pha_. I'le teach you in a short sentence, cause I will not
load your memory, that is all; love me, and lie with
me.

_Meg_. Was it lie with you that you said? 'Tis impossible.

_Pha_. Not to a willing mind, that will endeavour; if I do
not teach you to do it as easily in one night, as you'l
go to bed, I'le lose my Royal blood for't.

_Meg_. Why Prince, you have a Lady of your own, that
yet wants teaching.

_Pha_. I'le sooner teach a Mare the old measures, than teach
her any thing belonging to the function; she's afraid to
lie with her self, if she have but any masculine
imaginations about her; I know when we are married,
I must ravish her.

_Meg_. By my honour, that's a foul fault indeed, but time
and your good help will wear it out Sir.

_Pha_. And for any other I see, excepting your dear self,
dearest Lady, I had rather be Sir _Tim _the Schoolmaster,
and leap a Dairy-maid.

_Meg_. Has your Grace seen the Court-star _Galatea_?

_Pha_. Out upon her; she's as cold of her favour as an
apoplex: she sail'd by but now.

_Meg_. And how do you hold her wit Sir?

_Pha_. I hold her wit? The strength of all the Guard cannot
hold it, if they were tied to it, she would blow 'em out of
the Kingdom, they talk of _Jupiter_, he's but a squib
cracker to her: Look well about you, and you may find
a tongue-bolt. But speak sweet Lady, shall I be freely
welcome?

_Meg_. W