What, have ye found her out?

_Char_. We have hearkned after her.

_Ant_. What's that to my desire?

_Char_. Your grace must give us time,
And a little means.

_Tim_. She is sure a stranger,
If she were bred or known here--

_Ant_. Your dull endeavours _Enter_ Menippus.
Should never be employ'd. Welcom _Menippus_.

_Men_. I have found her Sir,
I mean the place she is lodg'd in; her name is _Celia_,
And much adoe I had to purchase that too.

_Ant_. Dost think _Demetrius_ loves her?

_Men_. Much I fear it,
But nothing that way yet can win for certain.
I'le tell your grace within this hour.

_Ant_. A stranger?

_Men_. Without all doubt.

_Ant_. But how should he come to her?

_Men_. There lies the marrow of the matter hid yet.

_Ant_. Hast thou been with thy wife?

_Men_. No Sir, I am going to her.

_Ant_. Go and dispatch, and meet me in the garden,
And get all out ye can. [_Exit._

_Men_. I'le doe my best Sir. [_Exit._

_Tim._ Blest be thy wife, thou wert an arrant ass else.

_Char_. I, she is a stirring woman indeed:
There's a brain Brother.

_Tim_. There's not a handsom wench of any mettle
Within an hundred miles, but her intelligence
Reaches her, and out-reaches her, and brings her
As confidently to Court, as to a sanctuary:
What had his mouldy brains ever arriv'd at,
Had not she beaten it out o'th' Flint to fasten him?
They say she keeps an office of Concealments:
There is no young wench, let her be a Saint,
Unless she live i'th' Center, but she finds her,
And every way prepares addresses to her:
If my wife would have followed her course _Charinthus_,
Her lucky course, I had the day before him:
O what might I have been by this time, Brother?
But she (forsooth) when I put these things to her,
These things of honest thrift, groans, O my conscience,
The load upon my conscience, when to make us cuckolds,
They have no more burthen than a brood-[goose], Brother;
But let's doe what we can, though this wench fail us,
Another of a new way will be lookt at:
Come, let's abroad, and beat our brains, time may
For all his wisdom, yet give us a day. [_Exeunt_.

_SCENA II._

Drum _within, Alarm, Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Leontius.

_Dem_. I will not see 'em fall thus, give me way Sir,
I shall forget you love me else.

_Leo_. Will ye lose all?
For me to be forgotten, to be hated,
Nay never to have been a man, is nothing,
So you, and tho