_Sir Fr_. Deserves not such a treasure to himselfe And starve a noble servant. _Lady_. You but pleade For vanitie: desist, for if I could (Forgetting honour and my modestie) Allow your wild desires, it were impossible That wee should meete more then in thought and shadowes. _Sir Fr_. If these shadowes, Madam, be but darke enough, I shall account it happines to meet you. But referr that to opportunitie, Which our kind starrs in pitty will sooner offer To both our ioyes. _Lady_. But he is very Jealous. _Sir Fr_. That word assures my victorie; I never Heard any wife accuse her husband of Or cold neglect or Jealousie, but she had A confirm'd thought within to trick his forehead-- It is but Justice, Madam, to reward him For his suspitious thoughts. _Lady_. D'ee thinke it fitt To punish his suspition yet perswade To act the sinne he feares? _Sir Fr_. Custome and nature make it less offence In women to comitt the deed of pleasure Then men to doubt their chastity; this flowing From poison'd natures, that excus'd by fraielty. Yet I have heard the way to cure the scare Has bin the deed; at truth the scruples vanish. I speake not, Madam, with a thought to suffer A foule breath whisper your white name; for he That dares traduce it must beleeve me dead, Or my fame twisted with your honour must not Have pitty on the Accusers blood. _Device_. I will attend you in the Countrey; I take my leave and kiss your ivory hand; Madam, and yours. Sir _Francis_, your obliged. [_Exit_. _Sir Fr_. You bless me with this promise. --How can you, lady, suffer this impertinent Afflict you thus? [_Ex. Lad_. _Sis_. Alas, my parrat's dead and he supplies the prattle: ith' spring and fall he will save me charge of phisick in purgeing Melancholy. _Sir Fr_. If you dare Accept a servant, Ladie, upon my Comends, I should present a kinsman t'ee Who sha'not want a fortune nor, I hope, A meritt to possesse your faire opinion. _Sis_. You doe not say he is hansome all this while, and that's a maine consideration. I wod not have a man so tall as a Mast, that I must clyme the shroudes to kisse him, nor so much a dwarfe that I must use a multiplying glass to know the proportion of his limbes. A great man is a great house with too much garret and his head full of nothing but lumber: if he be too round agen hees only fitt to be hung upp in a Christall glasse. The truth is the man I love must please me at first sight; if he take my eye I may take more tyme to examine his talent. _Sir Fr_. Do you but grace him with accesse and aske your owne fancie, Ladie, how you can affect him. Ile not despaire if he were cur'd of modesty, which is the whole fault in his behaviour; but he may passe without contempt. _Do_. That modestie is a foule fault. _Enter Captaine Underwitt_.