I’le refresh ye Sir;
     When ye want, you know your Exchequer.

     Lea.

     If all this get me but access, I am happy.

     Lop.

     Come, I am tender of ye.

     Lea.

     I’le go with ye. 
     To have this fort betray’d these fools must fleece me.

[Exeunt.

     SCENA II.

     Enter Bartolus, and Amaranta.

     Bar.

     My Amaranta, a retir’d sweet life,
     Private and close, and still, and houswifely,
     Becomes a Wife, sets off the grace of woman. 
     At home to be believ’d both young, and handsome,
     As Lilies that are cas’d in crystall Glasses,
     Makes up the wonder:  shew it abroad ’tis stale,
     And still the more eyes cheapen it ’tis more slubber’d,
     And what need windowes open to inviting? 
     Or evening Tarrasses, to take opinions? 
     When the most wholsome air (my wife) blows inward,
     When good thoughts are the noblest Companions,
     And old chast stories, wife, the best discourses;
     But why do I talk thus, that know thy nature?

     Ama.

     You know your own disease:  distrust, and jealousie,
     And those two, give these Lessons, not good meaning,
     What trial is there of my honestie,
     When I am mew’d at home? to what end Husband,
     Serves all the vertuous thoughts, and chast behaviours
     Without their uses?  Then they are known most excellent
     When by their contraries they are set off, and burnish’d. 
     If ye both hold me fair, and chast, and vertuous,
     Let me goe fearless out, and win that greatness: 
     These seeds grow not in shades, and conceal’d places: 
     Set ’em i’th’ heat of all, then they rise glorious.

     Bar.

     Peace, ye are too loud.

     Ama.

    You are too covetous. 
     If that be rank’d a vertue, you have a rich one. 
     Set me (like other Lawyers wives) off handsomely,
     Attended as I ought, and as they have it,
     My Coach, my people, and my handsome women,
     My will in honest things.

     Bar.

     Peace Amaranta.

     Ama.

     They have content, rich clothes, and that secures ’em,
     Binds, to their carefull husbands, their observance,
     They are merry, ride abroad, meet, laugh.

     Bar.

     Thou shalt too.

     Ama.

      And freely may converse with proper Gentlemen,
     Suffer temptations daily to their honour.

     Enter Woman-Mo[o]re.

     Bar.

     You are now too far again:  thou shalt have any thing,
     Let me but lay up for a handsome Office,
     And then my Amaranta—­