Sir Geff.  Nephew, demeane your selfe with[64] all respect
Toward the gentlewoman you affect. 
You must learne with here since the citty
Could spare you none.—­Ile to the lady.

[Exeunt Bunch, Sir Geff. and Mag.

Crac.  Captaine, shalls into th’Celler, Captaine?

Suc.  I like the Motion.

Crac.  Come away, then:  there is indifferent liquor in this house, but that ith towne is most abominable.  Weele drinke our owne healths, Captaine.

Suc.  Well considered; ’tis for our reputation.

[Exeunt omnes.

(SCENE 3.)

Enter Bonvill, Clarinna, Belizea and Grimes.

Bon.  Come, you are wantons both:  If I were absent,
You would with as much willingness traduce
My manners to them.  What Idiots are wee men
To tender our services to women
Who deride us for our paines!

Cla.  Why can you great wise men who esteeme us women
But equall with our parrets or at best
But a degree above them, prating creatures
Devoid of reason, thinke that when we see
A man whose teeth will scarce permitt his tongue
To say,—­(he is soe like December come
A woing to the Spring, with all the ensignes
Of youth and bravery as if he meant
To dare his land-lord Death to single rapier)—­
We have not so much spleene as will engender
A modest laughter at him?

Bel.  Nay, theres his Nephew, Crackby, your sweet servant.

Clar.  My Servant!  I do admire that man’s impudence, How he dare speake to any woman.

Bon.  Why, is he not flesh and blood?

Clar.  Yes, but I question whether it be mans or no.  They talk of changlings:  if there be such things I doubt not but hees one of them.

Bel.  Fie,[65] Sister; ’tis a prettye gent, I know you love him.

Clar.  You hitt it there, I faith,[66]—­You know the man?

Bon.  Yes, very well.

Clar.  Have you then ever seene such another monster? 
He was begott surely in the wane of the moone,
When Natures tooles were at laime Vulcans forge
A sharpning, that she was forced to shake this lumpe together.

Bon.  What man for heavens sake could your nicenes fancy?

Clar.  Not you of all that ever I beheld.

Bel.  And why, good wisdome?

Clar.  Nay, do not scratch me because he is your choyse, forsooth.

Bel.  Well, we shall see the goodly youth your curiositie has elected, when my brother returnes, I hope.

Clar.  I hope soe, too; I marvill where this Cub is, He is not roaring here yet.

    Enter Thorogood.

Bon.  Frend, thou hast lost The absolu[t]st characters deliverd by this lady:  Would thou hadst come a little sooner.