Mom.  Alas Neece, this is nothing, ist anything to a bodily marriage, to say you love a man in soule, if your harts agree, and your bodies meet not? simple marriage rites, now let us foorth:  he is in the way to felicity, and desires your hand.

Eug. My hand shall alwaies signe the way to felicity.

Mom.  Very good; may not any woman say this now.  Conclude now, sweet Neece.

Eug. And so God prosper your journey.

Mom.  Charitably concluded, though farre short of that love I wood have showen to any friend of yours, Neece, I sweare to you.  Your hand now, and let this little stay his appetite.

Eug.  Read what you have writ my Lord.

Mom.  What needs that, Madam? you remember it, I am sure.

Eug.  Well if it want sense in the Composition, let my secretary be blam’d for’t; thers my hand.

Mom.  Thanks, gentle Neece; now ile reade it.

Eug.  Why now, more then before I pray?

Mom.  That you shall see straite.—­I cannot but suffer you to love if you doe love, and will requite your love.

Eug.  Remember that requitall was of your owne putting in, but it shall be after my fashion, I warrant ye.

Mom.  Interrupt me no more.—­Your love being mentall needs no bodily requitall, but in hart I embrace, and repay it; my hand shall alwaies signe the way to felicity, and my selfe knit with you in the bands of marriage ever walke with you, in it, and so God prosper our journey: 
          
                                             Eugenia.

Eug.  Gods me life, tis not thus I hope.

Mom.  By my life but it is, Neece.

Eug.  By my life but tis none of my deed then.

Mom.  Doe you use to set your hand to that which is not your deed; your hand is at it, Neece, and if there be any law in England, you shall performe it too.

Eug.  Why? this is plaine dishonoured deceit.  Does all your truest kindnes end in law?

Mom.  Have patience Neece, for what so ere I say, Onely the lawes of faith, and thy free love Shall joyne my friend and thee, or naught at all.  By my friends love, and by this kisse it shall.

Eug.  Why, thus did false Acontius snare Cydippe.

Mom.  Indeed, deere love, his wile was something like,
And then tis no unheard of treachery,
That was enacted in a goddes Eye: 
Acontius worthy love feard not Diana
Before whom he contriv’d this sweet deceite.

Eug.  Well there you have my hand, but ile be sworne I never did thing so against my will.

Mom.  T’will prove the better, Madam, doubt it not. 
And to allay the billows of your bloud,
Rais’d with my motion bold and opposite,
Deere Neece, suppe with me, and refresh your spirites: 
I have invited your companions,
With the two guests that din’d with you to daie,
And will send for the old Lord Furnifall,
The Captaine, and his mates, and (tho at night)
We will be merry as the morning Larke.