Y. ART. Faith, Mistress Mary, at the point of death, And long she cannot live; she shall not live To trouble me in this my second choice. _Enter_ AMINADAB _with a bill and headpiece_. MRS MA. I pray forbear, sir, for here comes my love: Good sir, for this time leave me; by this kiss You cannot ask the question at my hands I will deny you: pray you, get you gone. Y. ART. Farewell, sweet Mistress Mary! [_Exit_. MRS MA. Sweet, adieu! AMIN. Stand to me, bill! and, headpiece, sit thou close! I hear my love, my wench, my duck, my dear, Is sought by many suitors; but with this I'll keep the door, and enter he that dare! Virga, be gone, thy twigs I'll turn to steel; These fingers, that were expert in the jerk; Instead of lashing of the trembling _podex_, Must learn pash and knock, and beat and mall, Cleave pates and _caputs_; he that enters here, Comes on to his death! _mors mortis_ he shall taste. [_He hides himself_. MRS MA. Alas! poor fool, the pedant's mad for love! Thinks me more mad that I would marry him. He's come to watch me with a rusty bill, To keep my friends away by force of arms: I will not see him, but stand still aside, And here observe him what he means to do. [_Retires_. AMIN. _O utinam_, that he that loves her best, Durst offer but to touch her in this place! _Per Jovem et Junonem! hoc_ Shall pash his coxcomb such a knock, As that his soul his course shall take To Limbo and Avernus' lake. In vain I watch in this dark hole; Would any living durst my manhood try, And offer to come up the stairs this way! MRS MA. O, We should see you make a goodly fray. [_Aside_.] AMIN. The wench I here watch with my bill, _Amo, amas, amavi_ still. _Qui audet_--let him come that dare! Death, hell, and limbo be his share! _Enter_ BRABO _with his sword in his hand_. BRA. Where's Mistress Mary? never a post here, A bar of iron, 'gainst which to try my sword? Now, by my beard, a dainty piece of steel. AMIN. O Jove, what a qualm is this I feel! BRA. Come hither, Mall, is none here but we two? When didst thou see the starveling schoolmaster? That rat, that shrimp, that spindle-shank, That wren, that sheep-biter, that lean chitty-face, That famine, that lean envy, that all-bones, That bare anatomy, that Jack-a-Lent, That ghost, that shadow, that moon in the wane? AMIN. I wail in woe, I plunge in pain.[15] [_Aside_.] BRA. When next I find him here, I'll hang him up, Like a dried sausage, in the chimney's top: That stock-fish, that poor John, that gut of men! AMIN. O, that I were at home again! [_Aside_.] BRA. When he comes next, turn him into the streets. Now, come, let's dance the shaking of the sheets. [_Exeunt_ MISTRESS MARY _and_ BRABO.