Mir. Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.

Bel. A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager,
And cared not for discourse, I were excellent at.

Mir. You must now put on boldness (there’s no avoiding it)
And stand all hazards, fly at all games bravely;
They’ll say, you went out like an ox, and return’d like an ass else.

Bel. I shall make danger, sure.

Mir. I am sent for home now,
I know it is to marry; but my father shall pardon me;
Although it be a weighty ceremony,
And may concern me hereafter in my gravity,
I will not lose the freedom of a traveller;
A new strong lusty bark cannot ride at one anchor.
Shall I make divers suits to show to the same eyes?
’Tis dull and home-spun! study several pleasures,
And want employments for ’em? I’ll be hang’d first!
Tie me to one smock? make my travels fruitless?
I’ll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
By your leave, father, I must have a fresh mistress,
And a fresh favour too.

Bel. I like that passingly;
As many as you will, so they be willing,
Willing, and gentle, gentle.

Pinac. There’s no reason
A gentleman, and a traveller, should be clapt up,
(For ’tis a kind of bilboes to be married)
Before he manifest to the world his good parts:
Tug ever, like a rascal, at one oar?
Give me the Italian liberty!

Mir. That I study,
And that I will enjoy. Come, go in, gentlemen;
There mark how I behave myself, and follow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Room in La Castre’s House.

Enter La Castre, Nantolet, Lugier, Rosalura, and Lillia Bianca.

La Ca. You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome!
Beshrew my blood they are fair ones!—Welcome, beauties,
Welcome, sweet birds!

Nant. They are bound much to your courtesies.

La Ca. I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.

Nant. That’s my hope too;
For, certain, sir, I much desire your alliance.
You see ’em; they are no gypsies; for their breeding,
It has not been so coarse, but they are able
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion.
Indeed, they have been trained well.

Lug. Thank me!

Nant. Fit for the heirs of that state I shall leave ’em;
To say more, is to sell ’em. They say, your son,
Now he has travell’d, must be wond’rous curious
And choice in what he takes; these are no coarse ones.
Sir, here’s a merry wench—let him look to himself;
All heart, i’faith!—may chance to startle him;
For all his care and travell’d caution,
May creep into his eye: If he love gravity,
Affect a solemn face, there’s one will fit him.

La Ca. So young and so demure?

Nant. She is my daughter,
Else I would tell you, sir, she is a mistress
Both of those manners, and that modesty,
You would wonder at: She is no often-speaker,
But, when she does, she speaks well; nor no reveller,
Yet she can dance, and has studied the court elements,
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
With the decency of her sex, may be a scholar,
I can assure you, sir, she understands too.