Bel. Now rise, and woo me a little; let me hear that faculty:
But touch me not; nor do not lie, I charge you!
Begin now.

Ros. If so mean and poor a beauty
May ever hope the grace

Bel. You cog, you flatter!
Like a lewd thing, you lie! “May hope that grace? ”
Why, what grace canst thou hope for? Answer not;
For if thou dost, and liest again, I’ll swinge thee!
Do not I know thee for a pestilent woman?
A proud at both ends? Be not angry,
Nor stir not o’ your life!

Ros. I am counsell’d, sir.

Bel. Art thou not now (confess, for I’ll have the truth out)
As much unworthy of a man of merit,
Or any of ye all, nay, of mere man,
Though he were crooked, cold, all wants upon him,
Nay, of any dishonest thing that bears that figure,
As devils are of mercy?

Ros. We are unworthy.

Bel. Stick to that truth, and it may chance to save thee.
And is it not our bounty that we take ye?
That we are troubled, vex’d, or tortured with ye,
Our mere and special bounty?

Ros. Yes.

Bel. Our pity,
That for your wickedness we swinge ye soundly;
Your stubbornness, and your stout hearts, we belabour ye?
Answer to that!

Ros. I do confess your pity.

Bel. And dost not thou deserve in thine own person,
Thou impudent, thou pert—Do not change countenance!

Ros. I dare not, sir.

Bel. For if you do—

Ros. I am settled.

Bel. Thou wagtail, peacock, puppy, look on me:
I am a gentleman.

Ros. It seems no less, sir.

Bel. And darest thou in thy surquedry—

Ros. I beseech you!
It was my weakness, sir, I did not view you,
I took not notice of your noble parts,
Nor culled your person, nor your proper fashion.

Bel. This is some amends yet.

Ros. I shall mend, sir, daily,
And study to deserve.

Bel. Come a little nearer!
Canst thou repent thy villainy?

Ros. Most seriously.

Bel. And be ashamed!

Ros. I am ashamed.

Bel. Cry!