Act II

SCENE I.—A Street.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, and Belleur.

Mir. Ne’er tell me of this happiness; ’tis nothing;
The state they bring with being sought-to, scurvy!
I had rather make mine own play, and I will do.
My happiness is in mine own content,
And the despising of such glorious trifles,
As I have done a thousand more. For my humour,
Give me a good free fellow, that sticks to me,
A jovial fair companion; there’s a beauty!
For women, I can have too many of them;
Good women too, as the age reckons ’em,
More than I have employment for.

Pinac. You’re happy.

Mir. My only fear is that I must be forced,
Against my nature, to conceal myself:
Health and an able body are two jewels.

Pinac. If either of these two women were offer’d to me now,
I would think otherwise, and do accordingly;
Yes, and recant my heresies, I would, sir,
And be more tender of opinion,
And put a little of my travell’d liberty
Out of the way, and look upon ’em seriously.
Methinks, this grave-carried wench—

Bel. Methinks, the other,
The home-spoken gentlewoman, that desires to be fruitful,
That treats of the full manage of the matter
(For there lies all my aim), that wench, methinks,
If I were but well set on, for she is affable,
If I were but hounded right, and one to teach me:
She speaks to th’ matter, and comes home to th’ point!
Now do I know I have such a body to please her,
As all the kingdom cannot fit her with, I am sure on’t,
If I could but talk myself into her favour.

Mir. That’s easily done.

Bel. That’s easily said; ’would ’twere done!
You should see then how I would lay about me.
If I were virtuous, it would never grieve me,
Or anything that might justify my modesty;
But when my nature is prone to do a charity,
And my calf’s tongue will not help me—

Mir. Will you go to ’em?
They cannot but take it courteously.

Pinac. I’ll do my part,
Though I am sure ’twill be the hardest I e’er play’d yet;
A way I never tried too, which will stagger me;
And, if it do not shame me, I am happy.

Mir. Win ’em, and wear ’em; I give up my interest.

Pinac. What say you, monsieur Belleur?

Bel. ’Would I could say,
Or sing, or anything that were but handsome!
I would be with her presently!

Pinac. Yours is no venture;
A merry, ready wench.

Bel. A vengeance squibber!
She’ll fleer me out of faith too.

Mir. I’ll be near thee;
Pluck up thy heart; I’ll second thee at all brunts.
Be angry, if she abuse thee, and beat her a little;
Some women are won that way.

Bel. Pray be quiet.
And let me think: I am resolved to go on;
But how I shall get off again—

Mir. I am persuaded
Thou wilt so please her, she’ll go near to ravish thee.

Bel. I would ’twere come to that once! Let me pray a little.