HAUGHTY

No, wee'll have her to the College: and she have wit, she shall be one of us.! shall she not Centaur? wee'll make her a Collegiate. Ʋ see her very civilly, Mavis. Let me alone. Centaur, help me. Master Bridegroom, where are you? We see no Ensigns of a Wedding, here; no Cham racter of a Brideale: where be our Skarfes, and our Gloves? I pray you, give them us. Let's know your Brides Colours, and yours, at least. He has given it you, Centaur, i'faith. But do you hear Master Morose, a Jest will not absolve you in this man ner. You that have sucked the Milk of the Court, and from thence have been brought up to the very strong meats, and Wine, of it; been a Courtier from the Biggen, to the Nightcap: (as we may say) and you, to offend in such a high point of Ceremony, as this and let your Nuptials want all marks of solemnity! How much Plate have you lost to day (if you had but regarded your profit) what gifts, what friends, through your mere Rusticity? Pardon me, Sir, I must insinuate your errors to you. No Gloves? no Garters? no Skarfes? no Epithalamium? no Masque? I, good Jack Daw. With the benefit of your company, Mistress. In sadness it's good, and mature counsel: pra ctize it, Morose. I'll call you Morose still now, as I call Cen taure, and Mavis: we four will be all one. Make him give Milk, and Honey. And go with us, to Bedlam, to the China Houses, and to the Exchange. Here's Centaur has immortalized her self, with ta ming of her wild Male. Why not? why should women deny their Favours to men? Are they the poorer, or the worse? Beside, Ladies should be mindful of the approach of age, and let no time want his endue use. The best of our days pass first. Not one. I'll tell you, Morose, you must talk Divinity to her altogether, or moral Philosophy. Where's Trusty, my woman? I'll end this difference. I pr'y thee, Otter, call her. Her Father and Mother were both mad, when they put her to me. And one of them (I know not which) was cured with the Sick-mans Salve; and the other with Greens Groatsworth of wit. I, it's very faesible. Oh Trusty, which was it you said, your Father, or your Mother, that was cured with the Sick-mans Salve? No, wee'll let him breathe, now a quarter of and hour, or so. Is that his keeper, that is gone with him? Good Morose, let's go in again. I Like your cou ches exceeding well: wee'll go lie, and talk there. Sir Dauphine is valiant, and a wit too, it seems. Was this his project? Good Morose, when you come to the College, will you bring him with you? He seems a very perfect Gentleman. No, to morrow, good Morose, Centaur shall send you her Coach. She has promised that Mavis. I, he shows he is judicial in his clothes. I, and have every hair in form! But, Sir Dauphiness carelessness becomes him. You have unbraced our brace of Knights, here, Master Tru-wit. There's no suspicion of that, Sir. But I am glad of the fortune (beside the discovery of two such empty Caskets) to gain the knowledge of so rich a Mine of Virtue, as Sir Dauphine. Shall we go in again, Morose? Will you, Master Tru-wit? We will not, Sir Dauphine. Sir, I can distinguish Gems from Peebles— And, howsoever I may suffer in such a judgement as yours, by admitting equality of rank, or society, with Centaur or Mavis — Then are you a friend to truth, Sir. It makes me love you the more. It is not the outward, but the inward man that I affect. They are not apprehensive of and eminent perfection, but love flat, and dully. I come presently, Centawe. My Chamber, Sir, my Page shall show you; and Trusty, my woman, shall be ever a wake for you: you need not fear to communicate any thing with her, for she is a Fidelia. I pray you wear this Jewel for my sake, Sir Dauphine. Where's Mavis, Cen taure? Let them be cudgeled out of doors, by our Grooms. Yes, by my troth. Yes, for Sir Dauphiness sake. And would you offer it to a young Gentlewoman? I would except against them as beaten Knights, Wench, and not good Witnesses in Law. Be comforted, Morose, I love you the better for't. Will Sir Dauphine do this?