enly and constantly,
And wisely too, we expect no common danger.

_Zen_. Be most assur'd, I'le dye first.

_Enter_ Clodio, _and_ Guard.

_Rut_. An't come to that once,
The Devil pick his bones, that dyes a coward,
I'le jog along with you, here comes the Stallion,
How smug he looks upon the imagination
Of what he hopes to act! pox on your kidneys;
How they begin to melt! how big he bears,
Sure he will leap before us all: what a sweet company
Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdness!
Plague of your chops, you ha' more handsome bitts,
Than a hundred honester men, and more deserving.
How the dogg leers.

_Clod_. You need not now be jealous,
I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done,
We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.

_Rut_. I'le watch you for that trick, baboon, I'le
Smoke you: the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
Basting of you.

_Arno_. Your Lordship
May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
But 'tis not in your honour, to perform it;
The Custom of this place, if such there be,
At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
But if you be an honest man you hate it,
How ever I will presently prepare
To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
Believe you are abus'd, this custome feign'd too,
And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.

_Clod_. Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir;
And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.

_Arn_. Your Lordships pleasure.

_Clod_. That anon _Arnoldo_,
This is but talk.

_Rut_. Shall we goe off?

_Arn_. By any means,
I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:
Besides, here's nothing due to him till the tye be done,
Nor dare he offer.

_Rut_. Now do I long to worry him:
Pray have a care to the main chance.

_Zen_. Pray Sir, fear not. [_Exit_ Ar. _and_ Rut.

_Clod_. Now, what say you to me?

_Zen_. Sir it becomes
The modestie, that maids are ever born with,
To use few words.

_Clod_. Do you see nothing in me?
Nothing to catch your eyes, nothing of wonder
The common mould of men, come short, and want in?
Do you read no future fortune for your self here?
And what a happiness it may be to you,
To have him honour you, all women aim at?
To have him love you Lady, that man love you,
The best, and the most beauteous have run mad for?
Look and be wise, you have a favour offer'd you
I do not every day propound to women;
You are a prettie one; and though each hour
I a