! hould, there Ile honor thee.

_Eud_. Why, all thys is a tryfell; suche a blast
As should not move a weake reede. Come, I love
Your selfe and not your fortunes: pray forgett em.
See, I have brought my daughter, and desyer
The matche betwixt us may be consumate.

_Gan_. O you are noble that can pyttie scorne!
And werte not for my frends losse all the rest
I should loosse like my shadowe.

_Eld_. I, and hym,
When I have toulde you myne intelligence.
Come, hees not halfe so good as you imagine.

_Gan_. Goe, y'are a woman, and that styll implyes
Can be malytious.--But are you then resolvd
To match with myne ill fortunes?

_Eud_. Sir, I am.

_Gan_. What says fayre _Bertha_?

_Ber_. That my free will dothe bynde
My love to his comandment.

_Gan_. Then take her, boy; we wilbe hencefourthe frends,
And howsoever crosses come & goe
Ile leave thee cloathes inowe for winter tyme.

_Bus_. Sir, I am bound to you & to my mistress,
And will so arme my servyce with delighte
That, madam, you shall counte thys maryadge yoake
The onlye lyst of pleasure.

_Ber_. Thats my hope:
Bate me the pleasure, and, beleive it, Sir,
I shall crye out oth bargayne.

_Bus_. Feare me not.

_Gan_. Come, we will have thys maryage sollempnyzd,
In which I meane to feighte with agonye
And shoe the worlde I can cast honors of
More easlye then my garments. Wisdome & thought
Most precious ever when tys dearest bought.

[_Exe. all but Gab_.

_Gab_. Suer thys should be the day of _Valentyne_
When everye byrd dothe coople, onlye I
Pore forlorne turtle, haveinge lost my mate,
Must dye on a bare braunche. Wytt defend me!
Youthe & my pleasures will not suffer it.
I've here contryved a letter to my frende
In myne ill brothers name. It may worke
Somethynge to gayne my wishes; at the worst
It cannot make me more then I am accurst.
And heres my messenger.--

_Enter La Fue_.

Howe nowe Mounseir _Fue_?
Whyther gost thou in suche a sweatinge passyon?

_Fue_. O, Madam, sweatynge is goode for the itche, and the rascall
_Didier_ haveing playd the roague with my lord ist possyble but I
should itche to be about hys eares when I see the knaves countenance?
Therefore to avoyde troble I affect sweatinge.

_Gab_. Why, thou dost not see hym nor art thou licklye.

_Fue_. O by all meanes I cannot mysse the devyll. Why, I am goeing to
the courte, Madam, & the knave wilbe in everye corner, _Didier_ I meane,
by all meane