Ia.  Thus Sir:  she was betroathed to a gallant young gentleman that loude hir with such passion, and admiration that he never thought he could be so blessed as to enjoy her in full marriage, till the minister was marrying them; and even then when he was saying I Charles take thee Hippolita with extreame joy, he began to looke pale, then going forwards saying, to my wedded wife, he lookt paler, and, then pronouncing, for richer for poorer as long as we both shall live, he lookt extreame pale.  Now, sir, when she comes to speake her parte, and said, I Hippolyta take thee Charles, he began to faint for joy, then saying to my wedded husband, he began to sinke, but then going forth too, for better for worse, he could stand no longer, but with very conceit, it seemd, that she whom he tendred as the best of all things, should pronounce the worst, and for his sake too, he suncke down right, and died sodenly:  And thus being halfe married, and her halfe husband wholy dead, I hope I may with discretion affirme her, halfe a maide, halfe a wife, and halfe a widdowe:  do ye conceive me Sir?

Bul.  O Lord Sir, I devoure you quicke; and now Sir I beseech you open unto me your tother Lady, what is shee?

Will.  Ile answere for her, because I know her Ladiship to be a perfect maide indeed.

Bul.  How canst thou know that?

Will.  Passing perfectly I warrant ye.

Ia.  By measuring her necke twice, and trying if it will come about hir forehead, and slip over her nose?

Will.  No Sir no, by a rule that will not slip so I warrant you, which for her honours sake I will let slip unto you.  Gods so Iack, I thinke they have supt.

Ia.  Bir Lady we have waited well the while.

Will.  Well though they have lost their attendance, let not us lose our supper, Iack.

Ia.  I doe not meane it; come Sir you shall goe in, and drinke with us yfaith.

Bul. Pardonne moy, mounsieur.

both.  No pardoning in truth Sir.

Bul.  Ie vous remercie de bon Ceur.

[Exeunt.

SCAENA 2.

Enter Goosecappe, Rudesby, Fouleweather, Eugenia,
Hippol., Penelope, Wynne.

Rud.  A plague on you, sweet Ladies, tis not so late; what needed you to have made so short a supper?

Goos.  In truth Sir Cutt. we might have tickled the vanity ant an howre longer, if my watch be trustible.

Foul.  I but how should theis beauties know that Sir Gyles? your watch is mortall, and may erre.

Go.  Thats sooth Captaine, but doe you heare honest friend, pray take a light, and see if the moone shine, I have a Sunne Diall will resolue presently.

Fo.  Howsoever beleeve it, Ladies, tis unwholesome, uncourtly, unpleasant to eate hastely, and rise sodainly; a man can shew no discourse, no witt, no stirring, no variety, no pretty conceits, to make the meate goe downe emphatically.