Lady.  Thou saist true, get me paper, pen and ink, I’le write to him, I’de be loth he should sleep in’s anger.  Women are most fools when they think th’are wisest.
                                              [Ex.  Omnes.

Musick.  Enter Young Loveless, and Widow, going to be Married, with them his Comrades.

Widow.  Pray Sir cast off these fellows, as unfitting for your bare knowledge, and far more your companie:  is’t fit such Ragamuffins as these are should bear the name of friends? and furnish out a civil house? ye’re to be married now, and men that love you must expect a course far from your old carrier:  if you will keep ’em, turn ’em to th’ stable, and there make ’em grooms:  and yet now consider it, such beggars once set o’ horse back, you have heard will ride, how far you had best to look.

Captain.  Hear you, you that must be Ladie, pray content your self and think upon your carriage soon at night, what dressing will best take your Knight, what wastcote, what cordial will do well i’th’ morning for him, what triers have you?

Widow.  What do you mean Sir?

Capt.  Those that must switch him up:  if he start well, fear not but cry Saint George, and bear him hard:  when you perceive his wind growes hot and wanting, let him a little down, he’s fleet, ne’re doubt him, and stands sound.

Widow.  Sir, you hear these fellows?

Young Love.  Merrie companions, wench, Merry companions.

Widow.  To one another let ’em be companions, but good Sir not to you:  you shall be civil and slip off these base trappings.

Cap.  He shall not need, my most swee[t] Ladie Grocer, if he be civil, not your powdered Sugar, nor your Raisins shall perswade the Captain to live a Coxcomb with him; let him be civil and eat i’th’ Arches, and see what will come on’t.

Poet.  Let him be civil, doe:  undo him; I, that’s the next way.  I will not take (if he be civil once) two hundred pound a year to live with him; be civil? there’s a trim perswasion.

Capt.  If thou beest civil Knight, as Jove defends it, get thee another nose, that will be pull’d off by the angry boyes for thy conversion:  the children thou shalt get on this Civillian cannot inherit by the law, th’are Ethnicks, and all thy sport meer Moral leacherie:  when they are grown, having but little in ’em, they may prove Haberdashers, or gross Grocers, like their dear Damm there:  prethee be civil Knight, in time thou maist read to thy houshold, and be drunk once a year:  this would shew finely.

Young Lo.  I wonder sweet heart you will offer this, you do not understand these Gentlemen:  I will be short and pithy:  I had rather cast you off by the way of charge:  these are Creatures, that nothing goes to the maintenance of but Corn and Water.  I will keep these fellows just in the competencie of two Hens.