MAL. Hush, then; mum, mouse in cheese[327], cat is near. [_Exit_ MAL. FRAN. Now, in good faith, Philip, this makes me smile, That I have wooed and won in so small while. PHIL. Francis, indeed my sister, I dare say. Was not determined to say thee nay; For this same tother thing, call'd maiden-head, Hangs by so small a hair or spider's thread, And worn so too[328] with time, it must needs fall, And, like a well-lur'd hawk, she knows her call. [_Enter_ MALL.] MAL. Whist, brother, whist! my mother heard me tread, And ask'd, Who's there? I would not answer her; She call'd, A light! and up she's gone to seek me: There when she finds me not, she'll hither come; Therefore dispatch, let it be quickly done. Francis, my love's lease I do let to thee, Date of my life and thine: what sayest thou to me? The ent'ring, fine, or income thou must pay, Are kisses and embraces every day; And quarterly I must receive my rent; You know my mind. FRAN. I guess at thy intent: Thou shalt not miss a minute of thy time. MAL. Why, then, sweet Francis, I am only thine.-- Brother, bear witness. PHIL. Do ye deliver this as your deed? MAL. I do, I do. PHIL. God send ye both good speed! God's Lord, my mother! Stand aside, And closely too, lest that you be espied. [_Enter_ MISTRESS BARNES.] MRS BAR. Who's there? PHIL. Mother, 'tis I. MRS BAR. You disobedient ruffian, careless wretch, That said your father lov'd me but too well? I'll think on't, when thou think'st I have forgot it: Who's with thee else?--How now, minion? you! With whom? with him!--Why, what make you here, sir, [_Discovers_ FRANCIS _and_ MALL.] And thus late too? what, hath your mother sent ye To cut my throat, that here you be in wait?-- Come from him, mistress, and let go his hand.-- Will ye not, sir? FRAN. Stay, Mistress Barnes, or mother--what ye will; She is[329] my wife, and here she shall be still. MRS BAR. How, sir? your wife! wouldst thou my daughter have? I'll rather have her married to her grave.[330] Go to; be gone, and quickly, or I swear I'll have my men beat ye for staying here. PHIL. Beat him, mother! as I am true[331] man, They were better beat the devil and his dam. MRS BAR. What, wilt thou take his part? PHIL. To do him good, And 'twere to wade hitherto up in blood. FRAN. God-a-mercy, Philip!--But, mother, hear me. MRS BAR. Call'st thou me mother? no, thy mother's name Carries about with it reproach and shame. Give me my daughter: ere that she shall wed A strumpet's son, and have her so misled, I'll marry her to a carter; come, I say, Give me her from thee. FRAN. Mother, not to-day, Nor yet to-morrow, till my life's last morrow Make me leave that which I with leave did borrow: Here I have borrowed love, I'll not denay[332] it.-- Thy wedding night's my day, then I'll repay it.-- Till then she'll trust me. Wench, is't[333] not so? And if it be, say ay, if not, say no.