Pray ye Sir, unlade me.
_Lop_.
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_--
_Ama_.
Here's a thing now, Ye place as pleasure to me: all my retinue, My Chamber-maid, my Kitchin-maid, my friend, And what she fails in, I must doe my self.
A foyle to set my Beauty off, I thank ye, You will place the Devil next for a Companion.
_Bar_.
No more such words, good wife, What would you have, Maid?
_Moor_.
Master Curate, and the Sexton, and a stranger, sir, Attend to speak with your worship.
_Bar_.
A stranger?
_Ama_.
You had best to be jealous of the man you know not.
_Bar_.
'Pray thee no more of that.
_Ama_.
'Pray ye goe out to 'em, That will be safest for ye, I am well here, I only love your peace, and serve like a slave for it.