SCAR. Clare, you are now mine, and I must let you know, What every wife doth to her husband owe: To be a wife, is to be dedicate, Not to a youthful course, wild and unsteady, But to the soul of virtue, obedience, Studying to please, and never to offend. Wives have two eyes created, not like birds To roam about at pleasure, but for[343] sentinels, To watch their husbands' safety as their own. Two hands; one's to feed him, the other herself: Two feet, and one of them is their husbands'. They have two of everything, only of one, Their chastity, that should be his alone. Their very thoughts they cannot term their own.[344] Maids, being once made wives, can nothing call Rightly their own; they are their husbands' all: If such a wife you can prepare to be, Clare, I am yours: and you are fit for me. CLARE. We being thus subdued, pray you know then, As women owe a duty, so do men. Men must be like the branch and bark to trees, Which doth defend them from tempestuous rage, Clothe them in winter, tender them in age: Or as ewes love unto their eanlings gives,[345] Such should be husbands' custom to their wives. If it appear to them they've stray'd amiss, They only must rebuke them with a kiss; Or clock them, as hens chickens, with kind call, Cover them under wing, and pardon all: No jars must make two beds, no strife divide them, Those betwixt whom a faith and troth is given, Death only parts, since they are knit by heaven: If such a husband you intend to be, I am your Clare, and you are fit for me. SCAR. By heaven-- CLARE. Advise, before you swear, let me remember you,[346] Men never give their faith and promise marriage, But heaven records their oath: if they prove true, Heaven smiles for joy; if not, it weeps for you: Unless your heart, then, with your words agree, Yet let us part, and let us both be free. SCAR. If ever man, in swearing love, swore true, My words are like to his. Here comes your father. _Enter SIR JOHN HARCOP, ILFORD, WENTLOE, BARTLEY, _and Butler_. HAR. Now, Master Scarborrow. SCAR. Prepar'd to ask, how you like that we have done: Your daughter's made my wife, and I your son. HAR. And both agreed so? BOTH. We are, sir. HAR. Then long may you live together, have store of sons! ILF. 'Tis no matter who is the father. [_Aside_.] HAR. But, son, here is a man of yours is come from London. BUT. And brought you letters, sir. SCAR. What news from London, butler? BUT. The old news, sir. The ordinaries are full of cheaters, some citizens are bankrupts, and many gentlemen beggars. SCAR. Clare, here is an unwelcome pursuivant; My lord and guardian writes to me, with speed I must return to London. HAR. And you being ward to him, son Scarborow, And no ingrate,[347] it fits that you obey him. SCAR.[348] It does, it does; for by an ancient law We are born free heirs, but kept like slaves in awe. Who are for London, gallants? ILF. Switch and Spur, we will bear you company.