FORTUNATUS. 
Content yourself, and leave these passions: 
Now do I sound the depth of all their drifts,
The devil’s[154] device and Churms his knavery;
On whom this heart hath vow’d to be reveng’d. 
I’ll scatter them:  the plot’s already in my head. 
Nurse, hie thee home, commend me to my sister;
Bid her this night send for Master Churms: 
To him she must recount her many griefs,
Exclaim against her father’s hard constraint, and so
Cunningly temporise with this cunning Catso,
That he may think she loves him as her life;
Bid her tell him that, if by any means
He can convey her forth her father’s gate
Unto a secret friend of hers,
The way to whom lies by this forest-side;
That none but he shall have her to his bride. 
For her departure let her ’ppoint the time
To-morrow night, when Vesper ’gins to shine;
Here will I be when Lelia comes this way,
Accompani’d with her gentleman-usher,
Whose am’rous thoughts do dream on nought but love: 
And if this bastinado hold, I’ll make
Him leave his wench with Sophos for a pawn. 
Let me alone to use him in his kind;
This is the trap which for him I have laid,
Thus craft by cunning once shall be betray’d: 
And, for the devil,[155] I will conjure him. 
Good nurse, begone; bid her not fail: 
And for a token bear to her this ring,
Which well she knows; for, when I saw her last,
It was her favour, and she gave it me.

SOPHOS. 
And bear her this from me,
And with this ring bid her receive my heart—­
My heart! alas, my heart I cannot give;
How should I give her that which is her own?

NURSE. 
And your heart be hers, her heart is yours, and so change is no robbery. 
Well, I’ll give her your tokens, and tell her what ye say.

FORTUNATUS. 
Do, good nurse; but in any case let not my father know that I am here,
until we have effected all our purposes.

NURSE. 
I’ll warrant you, I will not play with you, as Master Churms does with
Sophos; I would ha’ my ears cut from my head first.
          
                                              [Exit NURSE.

FORTUNATUS. 
Come, Sophos, cheer up yourself, man;
Let hope expel these melancholy dumps. 
Meanwhile, let’s in, expecting
How the events of this device will fall,
Until to-morrow at th’appointed time,
When we’ll expect the coming of your love. 
What, man, I’ll work it through the fire,
But you shall have her.

SOPHOS. 
And I will study to deserve this love.

[Exeunt.

    Enter WILLIAM CRICKET solus.

WILL CRICKET. 
Look on me, and look of Master Churms, a good, proper man.  Marry, Master
Churms has something a better pair of legs indeed, but for a sweet face,
a fine beard, comely corpse, and a carousing codpiece.

    All England, if it can,
    Show me such a man,
    To win a wench, by Gis,
    To clip, to coll, to kiss,
    As William Cricket is.