De Ga. The debt-book of your mistresses; I remember it.

Mir. Why, this was it that anger’d her; she was stark mad
She found not her name here; and cried down- right,
Because I would not pity her immediately,
And put her in my list.

De Ga. Sure she had more modesty.

Mir. Their modesty is anger to be over-done;
They’ll quarrel sooner for precedence here,
And take it in more dudgeon to be slighted,
Than they will in public meetings; ’tis their natures:
And, alas, I have so many to dispatch yet,
And to provide myself for my affairs too,
That, in good faith—

De Ga. Be not too glorious foolish;
Sum not your travels up with vanities;
It ill becomes your expectation!
Temper your speech, sir! Whether your loose story
Be true or false (for you are so free, I fear it)
Name not my sister in’t, I must not hear it;
Upon your danger, name her not! I hold her
A gentlewoman of those happy parts and carriage,
A good man’s tongue may be right proud to speak her.

Mir. Your sister, sir? do ye blench at that? do ye cavil?
Do ye hold her such a piece she may not be play’d withal?
I have had an hundred handsomer and nobler,
Have sued to me too, for such a courtesy;
Your sister comes i’ th’ rear. Since ye are so angry,
And hold your sister such a strong Recusant,
I tell ye, I may do it; and, it may be, will too;
It may be, have too; there’s my free confession:
Work upon that now!

De Ga. If I thought ye had, I would work,
And work such stubborn work should make your heart ache!
But I believe ye, as I ever knew ye,
A glorious talker, and a legend-maker
Of idle tales, and trifles; a depraver
Of your own truth: their honours fly about ye!
And so I take my leave; but with this caution,
Your sword be surer than your tongue; you’ll smart else.

Mir. I laugh at thee, so little I respect thee!
And I’ll talk louder, and despise thy sister;
Set up a chamber- maid that shall out-shine her,
And carry her in my coach too, and that will kill her.
Go, get thy rents up, go!

De Ga. You are a fine gentleman!

[Exit.

Mir. Now, have at my two youths! I’ll see how they do;
How they behave themselves; and then I’ll study
What wench shall love me next, and when I’ll lose her.

[Exit.

SCENE II.—A Hall in La Castre’s House.

Enter Pinac and a Servant.

Pinac. Art thou her servant, say’st thou?

Serv. Her poor creature;
But servant to her horse, sir.

Pinac. Canst thou show me
The way to her chamber, or where I may conveniently
See her, or come to talk to her?

Serv. That I can, sir;
But the question is, whether I will or no.

Pinac. Why, I’ll content thee.

Serv. Why, I’ll content thee then; now you come to me.