MAR.  Why, how now, man! is this your madding month? 
What, sir! will you forbid me in good sort
To entertain my friends?

CAS.  Your friends, you whore! 
They are no friends of mine, nor come they here. 
Clinton, avaunt, my house is for no such.

MAR.  Alas, good sir! are you grown so suspicious,
Thus on no proofs to nourish jealousy? 
I cannot kiss a man but you’ll be angry. 
In spite of you, or whoso else saith nay,
My friends are welcome, as they come this way: 
If you mislike it, mend it as you may. 
What, do you think to pin up Marian,
As you were wont to do your Spanish girls? 
No, sir, I’ll be half mistress of myself;
The other half is yours, if you deserve it.

CLIN.  What madness mov’d thee be displeas’d with me,
That always us’d thee with so kind regard? 
Did I not at thy first arrival here
Conduct thee to the Earl of London’s house?

MAR.  Did I not, being unsolicited,
Bestow my first pure maiden love on thee?

CLIN.  Did I not grace thee there in all the court,
And bear thee out against the daring abbot?

MAR.  Did I not forsake many young gallant courtiers,
Enamoured with thy aged gravity,
Who, now being weary of me, wouldst disgrace me?

CAS.  If there be any conscience left on earth,
How can I but believe these protestations?

CLIN.  Have I not always been thy nearest friend?

MAR.  Have I not always been thy dearest wife?

CLIN.  How much will all the world in this condemn thee?

MAR.  At first I little fear’d what now I find,
And grieve too late.

CAS.  Content thee, gentle dame. 
The nature of our countrymen is such,
That, if we see another kiss our wives,
We cannot brook it:  but I will be pleas’d;
For, will I, nill I,[464] so methinks I must. 
And, gentle captain, be not you offended;
I was too hot at first, but now repent it. 
I prythee, gentle dame, forgive me this,
And drown all jealousy in this sweet kiss.

CLIN.  This shows your wisdom:  on, I’ll follow you.

MAR. [Aside.] Well, doctor, henceforth never reckon[465] it scorn
At my sweet Clinton’s hands to take the horn.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV., SCENE I.

Enter ROBIN GOODFELLOW,[466] in a suit of leather,
close to his body; his face and hands coloured
russet-colour, with a flail.

ROB.  The doctor’s self would scarce know Robin now. 
Curs’d Marian may go seek another man,
For I intend to dwell no longer with her,
Since that the bastinado drove me thence. 
These silken girls are all too fine for me: 
My master shall report of those in hell,
Whilst I go range amongst the country-maids,
To see, if homespun lasses milder be
Than my curs’d dame and Lacy’s wanton