Ros. We expected husbands
Out of your documents and taught behaviours,
Excellent husbands; thought men would run stark mad on us,
Men of all ages, and all states; we expected
An inundation of desires and offers,
A torrent of trim suitors; all we did,
Or said, or purposed, to be spells about us,
Spells to provoke.

Lil. You have provoked us finely!
We follow’d your directions, we did rarely,
We were stately, coy, demure, careless, light, giddy,
And play’d at all points: This, you swore, would carry.

Ros. We made love, and contemn’d love; now seem’d holy,
With such a reverend put-on reservation
Which could not miss, according to your principles;
Now gave more hope again; now close, now public,
Still up and down we beat it like a billow;
And ever those behaviours you read to us,
Subtle, and new: But all this will not help us!

Lil. They help to hinder us of all acquaintance,
They have frighted off all friends! What am I better
For all my learning, if I love a dunce,
A handsome dunce? to what use serves my reading?
You should have taught me what belongs to horses,
Dogs, dice, hawks, banquets, masques, free and fair meetings,
To have studied gowns and dressings.

Lug. Ye are not mad, sure!

Ros. We shall be, if we follow your encouragements:
I’ll take mine own way now!

Lil. And I my fortune;
We may live maids else till the moon drop millstones.
I see, your modest women are taken for monsters;
A dowry of good breeding is worth nothing.

Lug. Since ye take it so to th’ heart, pray ye give me leave yet,
And you shall see how I’ll convert this heretic:
Mark how this Mirabel—

Lil. Name him no more;
For, though I long for a husband, I hate him,
And would be married sooner to a monkey,
Or to a Jack of Straw, than such a juggler.

Ros. I am of that mind too; he is too nimble,
And plays at fast and loose too learnedly,
For a plain-meaning woman; that’s the truth on’t.
Here’s one too, that we love well, would be angry;

[Pointing to Oriana.

And reason why. No, no, we will not trouble you
Nor him at this time: May he make you happy!
We’ll turn ourselves loose now, to our fair fortunes;
And the down-right way—

Lil. The winning way we’ll follow;
We’ll bait that men may bite fair, and not be frighted;
Yet we’ll not be carried so cheap neither; we’ll have some sport,
Some mad-morris or other for our money, tutor.

Lug. ’Tis like enough: Prosper your own devices!
Ye are old enough to chuse: But, for this gentlewoman,
So please her give me leave—

Ori. I shall be glad, sir,
To find a friend whose pity may direct me.

Lug. I’ll do my best, and faithfully deal for ye;
But then ye must be ruled.

Ori. In all, I vow to you.

Ros. Do, do: He has a lucky hand sometimes, I’ll assure you;
And hunts the recovery of a lost lover deadly.

Lug. You must away straight.

Ori. Yes.

Lug. And I’ll instruct you:
Here you can know no more.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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