Young Lo. Wilt thou persevere?

Mor. Till I have a penny.  I have brave cloathes a making, and two horses; canst thou not help me to a match Knight, I’le lay a thousand pound upon my crop-ear.

Yo.  Lo. Foot, this is stranger than an Africk monster, There will be no more talk of the Cleve wars Whilst this lasts, come, I’le put thee into blood.

Sav. Would all his damn’d tribe were as tender hearted.  I beseech you let this Gentleman join with you in the recovery of my Keyes; I like his good beginning Sir, the whilst I’le pray for both your worships.

Young Lo. He shall Sir.

Mor. Shall we goe noble Knight?  I would fain be acquainted.

Young Lo. I’le be your Servant Sir. [Exeunt.

Enter Elder Loveless, and Lady.

Elder Lo. Faith my sweet Lady, I have caught you now, maugre your subtilties, and fine devices, be coy again now.

Lady. Prethee sweet-heart tell true.

Elder Lo. By this light, by all the pleasures I have had this night, by your lost maidenhead, you are cozened meerly.  I have cast beyond your wit.  That Gentleman is your retainer Welford.

Lady. It cannot be so.

Elder Lo. Your Sister has found it so, or I mistake, mark how she blushes when you see her next.  Ha, ha, ha, I shall not travel now, ha, ha, ha.

Lady. Prethee sweet heart be quiet, thou hast angred me at heart.

Elder Lo. I’le please you soon again.

La. Welford?

Elder Lo. I Welford, hee’s a young handsome fellow, well bred and landed, your Sister can instruct you in his good parts, better than I by this time.

Lady. Uds foot am I fetcht over thus?

Elder Lo. Yes i’faith.  And over shall be fetcht again, never fear it.

Lady. I must be patient, though it torture me:  You have got the Sun Sir.

Elder Lo. And the Moon too, in which I’le be the man.

Lady. But had I known this, had I but surmiz’d it, you should have hunted three trains more, before you had come to th’ course, you should have hankt o’th’ bridle, Sir, i’faith.

El.  Lo. I knew it, and min’d with you, and so blew you up.  Now you may see the Gentlewoman:  stand close.

Enter Welford, and Martha.

Mar. For Gods sake Sir, be private in this business, You have undone me else.  O God, what have I done?

Wel. No harm I warrant thee.

Mar. How shall I look upon my friends again?  With what face?

Wel. Why e’ne with that:  ’tis a good one, thou canst not find a better:  look upon all the faces thou shall see there, and you shall find ’em smooth still, fair still, sweet still, and to your thinking honest; those have done as much as you have yet, or dare doe Mistris, and yet they keep no stir.