Mir. This is a thundering lord: I am glad I ’scaped him.
How lovingly the wench disclaim’d my villainy!
I am
vex’d now heartily that he shall have her;
Not that I care to marry, or to lose her,
But that this bilbo-lord
shall reap that maidenhead
That was my due; that he shall rig and top her!
I’d give a thousand crowns
now, he might miss her.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Nay, if I bear your blows, and keep your counsel,
You have good luck, sir: I’ll teach you to strike
lighter.
Mir. Come hither, honest fellow: Canst thou tell me
Where this great lord lies? this Savoy lord? Thou
met’st
him;
He now went by thee, certain.
Serv. Yes, he did, sir;
I know him, and I know you are fool’d.
Mir. Come hither;
[Gives money.
Serv. Not for your money
(And yet that may do much), but I have been beaten,
And by the worshipful
contrivers beaten, and I’ll tell you.
This is no lord, no Savoy lord.
Mir. Go forward.
Serv. This is a trick, and put upon you grossly
By one Lugier: The lord is monsieur De Gard, sir,
An honest
gentleman, and a neighbour here:
Their ends you understand better than I, sure.
Mir. Now I know him;
Know him now plain!
Serv. I have discharged my choler; so God be wi’ you, sir!
[Exit.
Mir. What a purblind puppy was I! Now I remember him;
All the whole cast on’s face, though it were
umber’d,
And mask’d with patches. What a dunder-whelp,
To let him domineer thus! How he strutted,
And
what a load of lord he clapt upon him!
’Would I had him here again! I would so bounce him,
I would so
thank his lordship for his lewd plot—
Do they think to carry it away, with a great band made of bird-pots,
And
a pair of pin-buttock’d breeches?—Ha!
Enter De GARD, ORIANA, and Attendants.
[Sings.
And will that favour never sweeter be?
Wilt thou, I say, for ever play the fool?
De Gard, be wise, and, Savoy, go to school!
My lord De Gard, I thank you for your antick;
My lady bright, that will be sometimes frantic;
You worthy train that wait upon this pair,
—’Send you more wit, and them a bouncing bair!
And so I take my humble leave of your honours!
[Exit.
De Ga. We are discover’d, there’s no remedy.
Lillia Bianca’s man, upon my life.
In stubbornness, because
Lugier corrected him—
A shameless slave! plague on him for a rascal!