Lady. I think not, if you will look With an indifferency upon us both.

Elder Lo. Upon your faces, ’tis true:  but if judiciously we shall cast our eyes upon your minds, you are a thousand women of her in worth:  she cannot swound in jest, nor set her lover tasks, to shew her peevishness, and his affection, nor cross what he saies, though it be Canonical.  She’s a good plain wench, that will do as I will have her, and bring me lusty Boys to throw the Sledge, and lift at Pigs of Lead:  and for a Wife, she’s far beyond you:  what can you do in a houshold to provide for your issue, but lye i’ bed and get ’em? your business is to dress you, and at idle hours to eat; when she can do a thousand profitable things:  she can do pretty well in the Pastry, and knows how Pullen should be cram’d, she cuts Cambrick at a thread, weaves Bone-lace, and quilts Balls; and what are you good for?

Lady. Admit it true, that she were far beyond me in all respects, does that give you a licence to forswear your self?

Elder Lo. Forswear my self, how?

Lady. Perhaps you have forgotten the innumerable oaths you have utter’d in disclaiming all for Wives but me:  I’le not remember you:  God give you joy.

Elder Lo. Nay but conceive me, the intent of oaths is ever understood:  Admit I should protest to such a friend, to see him at his Lodging to morrow:  Divines would never hold me perjur’d if I were struck blind, or he hid him where my diligent search could not find him:  so there were no cross act of mine own in’t.  Can it be imagined I mean to force you to Marriage, and to have you whether you will or no?

Lady. Alas you need not.  I make already tender of my self, and then you are forsworn.

Elder Lo. Some sin I see indeed must necessarily fall upon me, as whosoever deals with Women shall never utterly avoid it:  yet I would chuse the least ill; which is to forsake you, that have done me all the abuses of a malignant Woman, contemn’d my service, and would have held me prating about Marriage, till I had been past getting of Children:  then her that hath forsaken her Family, and put her tender body in my hand, upon my word—­

Lady. Which of us swore you first to?

Elder Lo. Why to you.

Lady. Which oath is to be kept then?

Elder Lo. I prethee do not urge my sins unto me, Without I could amend ’em.

Lady. Why you may by wedding me.

Elder Lo. How will that satisfie my word to her?

Lady. ’Tis not to be kept, and needs no satisfaction, ’Tis an error fit for repentance only.

Elder Lo. Shall I live to wrong that tender hearted Virgin so?  It may not be.

Lady. Why may it not be?

Elder Lo. I swear I would rather marry thee than her:  but yet mine honesty?

Lady. What honesty?  ’Tis more preserv’d this way:  Come, by this light, servant, thou shalt, I’le kiss thee on’t.