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 about his house
And cannot find us, for we may be sure
He will not seeke me in his sicke friends Chamber,
(I have at all times made his love so strange,)
He straight will thinke, I went away displeas’d,
Or hartely careles of his hardest suite. 
And then I know there is no griefe on Earth
Will touch his hart so much; which I will suffer,
To quite his late good pleasure wrought on me,
For ile be sworne in motion, and progresse
Of his friends suite, I never in my life
Wrastled so much with passion or was mov’d
To take his firme love in such jelouse part.

Hip.  This is most excellent, Madam, and will prove A neecelike, and a noble friends Revenge.

Eug.  Bould in a good cause; then lets greet his friend.—­
Where is this sickely gentleman? at his booke? 
Now in good truth I wood theis bookes were burnd
That rapp men from their friends before their time,
How does my uncles friend, no other name
I need give him, to whom I give my selfe.

Cla.  O Madam let me rise that I may kneele, And pay some duty to your soveraigne grace.