Sub.
My most honor'd lady,
For so I am now to style you, having
found

By this my scheme,18 you are to undergo
An honorable fortune very shortly,
What will you say now, if some-
Face.
I ha' told her all, sir,
And her right worshipful brother here,
that she shall be

A countess; do not delay 'em, sir; a Spanish countess.

Sub. Still, my scarce-worshipful captain, you can keep

No secret! Well, since he has told you,

Sub. Come, you must love him, or be miserable;

Choose which you will.

Face. By this good rush, persuade her, She will cry 20 strawberries else within this twelve month.

Sub. Nay, shads and mackerel, which is

Face.

Kas.

worse.

Indeed, sir!

God's lid, you shall love him, or I'll kick you. Why,

Dame P.

I'll do as you will ha' me, brother.

Kas.

Or by this hand I'll maul you.

Face.
Be not so fierce.

Sub.

She will be rul'd.

to taste

Do,

Nay, good sir,

No, my enraged child;

What, when she comes

The pleasures of a countess! to be

courted

Face. And kiss'd and ruffled!

SCENE 6.

Enter Surly and Dame Pliant.

Sur. Lady, you see into what hands you are fall'n;

'Mongst what a nest of villains! and how

near

Your honor was t' have catch'd a certain clap,

Through your credulity, had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, And other circumstance would ha' made a man;

For you're a handsome woman: would you were wise too!

I am a gentleman come here disguis'd, Only to find the knaveries of this citadel;

And where I might have wrong'd your honor, and have not,

I claim some interest in your love. You are,

They say, a widow, rich; and I'm a bachelor,

Worth nought: your fortunes may make

captain.

I've found from whence your copper rings and spoons

Come now, wherewith you cheat abroad in taverns.

'T was here you learn'd t' anoint your boot with brimstone,

Then rub men's gold on't for a kind of touch,

And say, 't was naught, when you had chang'd the color,

That you might ha't for nothing. And this doctor,

Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he Will close you so much gold, in a bolt'shead,

And, on a turn, convey i' the stead another

With sublim'd mercury, that shall burst i' the heat,

And fly out all in fumo! Then weeps Mammon;

Then swoons his worship. Or (Face slips out.) he is the Faustus,

That casteth figures and can conjure,