Wel. I know your affable vertue will be moved to perswade her, that a Gentleman benighted and strayed, offers to be bound to her for a nights lodging.

Abi. I will commend this message to her; but if you aim at her body, you will be deluded:  other women of the household of good carriage and government; upon any of which if you can cast your affection, they will perhaps be found as faithfull and not so coy. [Exit Younglove.

Wel. What a skin full of lust is this?  I thought I had come a wooing, and I am the courted partie.  This is right Court fashion:  Men, Women, and all woo, catch that catch may.  If this soft hearted woman have infused any of her tenderness into her Lady, there is hope she will be plyant.  But who’s here?

Enter Sir Roger the Curate.

Roger. Gad save you Sir.  My Lady lets you know she desires to be acquainted with your name, before she confer with you?

Wel. Sir, my name calls me Welford.

Roger. Sir, you are a Gentleman of a good name.  I’le try his wit.

Wel. I will uphold it as good as any of my Ancestors had this two hundred years Sir.

Roger. I knew a worshipfull and a Religious Gentleman of your name in the Bishoprick of Durham.  Call you him Cousen?

Wel. I am only allyed to his vertues Sir.

Roger. It is modestly said:  I should carry the badge of your Christianity with me too.

Wel. What’s that, a Cross? there’s a tester.

Roger. I mean the name which your God-fathers and God-mothers gave you at the Font.

Wel. ’Tis Harry:  but you cannot proceed orderly now in your Catechism:  for you have told me who gave me that name.  Shall I beg your name?

Roger. Roger.

Wel. What room fill you in this house?

Roger. More rooms than one.

Wel. The more the merrier:  but may my boldness know, why your Lady hath sent you to decypher my name?

Roger. Her own words were these:  To know whether you were a formerly denyed Suitor, disguised in this message:  for I can assure you she delights not in Thalame:  Hymen and she are at variance, I shall return with much hast. [Exit Roger.

Wel. And much speed Sir, I hope:  certainly I am arrived amongst a Nation of new found fools, on a Land where no Navigator has yet planted wit; if I had foreseen it, I would have laded my breeches with bells, knives, copper, and glasses, to trade with women for their virginities:  yet I fear, I should have betrayed my self to a needless charge then:  here’s the walking night-cap again.

Enter Roger.

Roger. Sir, my Ladies pleasure is to see you:  who hath commanded me to acknowledge her sorrow, that you must take the pains to come up for so bad entertainment.