she hugs
Close in her hart, in her ambitious gripe,
Ere I sustaine it, if this slendrest joynt
Mou'd with the worth that worldlings love so well
Had power to save it from the throate of hell.
[_He drawes the curtains, and sits within them_.

_Enter Eugenia, Penelope, Hippolita_.

_Eug_. Come on, faire Ladies, I must make you both
Familiar witnesses of the most strange part
And full of impudence, that ere I plaide.

_Hip_. What's that, good Madam?

_Eug_. I that have bene so more then maiden-nice
To my deere Lord and uncle not to yeeld
By his importunate suite to his friends love
In looke, or almost thought; will of my selfe,
Farre past his expectation or his hope,
In action and in person greete his friend,
And comfort the poore gentlemans sicke state.

_Pene_. Is this a part of so much Impudence?

_Eug_. No but I feare me it will stretch to more.

_Hip_. Marry, Madam, the more the merrier.

_Eug_. Marrie Madam? what shood I marrie him?

_Hip_. You take the word me thinkes as tho you would,
And if there be a thought of such kind heate
In your cold bosome, wood to god my breath
Might blowe it to the flame of your kind hart.

_Eug_. Gods pretious, Ladie, know ye what you say,
Respect you what I am, and what he is,
What the whole world wood say, & what great Lords
I have refused, and might as yet embrace,
And speake you like a friend to wish me him?

_Hip_. Madam I cast all this, and know your choyse
Can cast it quite out of the christall dores
Of your Iudiciall eyes: I am but young,
And be it said, without all pride I take
To be a maid, I am one, and indeed
Yet in my mothers wombe to all the wiles
Weeud[46] in the loomes of greatnes, and of state:
And yet even by that little I have learn'd
Out of continuall conference with you,
I have cride haruest home of thus much judgment
In my greene sowing time, that I cood place
The constant sweetnes of good _Clarence_ minde,
Fild with his inward wealth and noblenes,
(Looke, Madam) here, when others outward trash
Shood be contented to come under here.

_Pene_. And so say I uppon my maidenhead.

_Eug_. Tis well said, Ladies, thus we differ then,
I to the truth-wife, you to worldly men.
And now sweet dames obserue an excellent jest
(At least in my poore jesting.) Th'Erle my unckle
Will misse me straite, and I know his close drift
Is to make me, and his friend _Clarence_ meete
By some device or other he hath plotted.
Now when he seekes us round