you were born, my full Antipathie. Empire and more imperious love, alone Rule, and admit no rivals:  the purest springs When they are courted by lascivious land-floods, Their maiden pureness, and their coolness perish.  And though they purge again to their first beauty, The sweetness of their taste is clean departed.  I must have all or none; and am not worthy Longer the noble name of wife, Arnoldo, Than I can bring a whole heart pure and handsom.

Arnol.  I never shall deserve you:  not to thank you; You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you:  I am sorrie I spake so rashly, ’twas but to try you.

Rut.  You might have tryed a thousand women so, And 900, fourscore and 19 should ha’ followed your counsel.  Take heed o’ clapping spurrs to such free cattell.

Arn.  We must bethink us suddenly and constantly, And wisely too, we expect no common danger.

Zen.  Be most assur’d, I’le dye first.

Enter Clodio, and Guard.

Rut.  An’t come to that once,
The Devil pick his bones, that dyes a coward,
I’le jog along with you, here comes the Stallion,
How smug he looks upon the imagination
Of what he hopes to act! pox on your kidneys;
How they begin to melt! how big he bears,
Sure he will leap before us all:  what a sweet company
Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdness! 
Plague of your chops, you ha’ more handsome bitts,
Than a hundred honester men, and more deserving. 
How the dogg leers.

Clod.  You need not now be jealous, I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done, We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.

Rut.  I’le watch you for that trick, baboon, I’le
Smoke you:  the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
Basting of you.

Arno.  Your Lordship
May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
But ’tis not in your honour, to perform it;
The Custom of this place, if such there be,
At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
But if you be an honest man you hate it,
How ever I will presently prepare
To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
Believe you are abus’d, this custome feign’d too,
And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.

Clod.  Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir; And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.

Arn.  Your Lordships pleasure.

Clod.  That anon Arnoldo, This is but talk.

Rut.  Shall we goe off?

Arn.  By any means, I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:  Besides, here’s nothing due to him till the tye be done, Nor dare he offer.

Rut.  Now do I long to worry him:  Pray have a care to the main chance.

Zen.  Pray Sir, fear not. [Exit Ar. and Rut.