W. SMALL. Does she so? and thou must be her waiting-woman? Faith, thou wilt make a fine dainty creature, To sit at a chamber-door, and look fleas In my lady's dog, while she is shewing Some slippery-breech'd courtier rare faces In a bay[403]-window. Foot, widow, Marry me--a young and complete gallant. TAF. How a complete gallant? what? a fellow With a hat tuck'd up behind, and, what we use About our hips to keep our coats from dabbling, He wears about his neck--a farthingale! A standing collar to keep his neat band clean, The whilst his shirt doth stink, and is more foul Than an inn-of-chancery table-cloth: His breeches must be plaited, as if he had Some thirty pockets, when one poor half-penny purse Will carry all his treasure; his knees all points, As if his legs and hams were tied together; A fellow that has no inside, but prates By rote, as players and parrots use to do, And, to define a complete gallant right, A mercer form'd him, a tailor makes him, A player gives him spirit. W. SMALL. Why, so in my conscience to be a countess Thou wouldst marry a hedge-hog: I must confess, 'Tis state to have a coxcomb kiss your hands, While yet the chamber-lie[404] is scarce wip'd off; To have an upright usher march before you Bare-headed in a tuftafata jerkin, Made of your old cast gown, shows passing well, But when you feel your husband's pulse, that's hell; Then you fly out, and bid strait smocks farewell. TAF. I hope, sir, whate'er our husbands be, We may be honest. W. SMALL. May be! may, y' are: Women and honesty are so near allied, As parsons' lives are to their doctrines-- One and the same. But, widow, now be rul'd; I hope the heavens will give thee better grace Than to accept the father, and I yet live To be bestowed: if you wed the stinkard, You shall find the tale of Tantalus To be no fable, widow. OLIVER. How I sweat! [_Aside._ I can hold no longer. [_Comes out._] Degenerate bastard! I here disclaim thee, cashier thee; nay, more, I disinherit thee both of my love And living: get thee a grey cloak and hat, And walk in Paul's[405] among thy cashier'd mates As melancholy as the best. TAF. Come not near me, I forbid thee my house, my out-houses, My garden, orchard, and my back-side[406]; Thou shalt not harbour near me. [_Exeunt_ TAFFATA _and_ ADRIANA. OLIVER. Nay, to thy grief Know, varlet, I will be wed this morning, Thou shalt not be there, nor once be grac'd With a piece of rosemary[407]. I[408] cashier thee. Do not reply: I will not stay to hear thee. [_Exit_ SIR OLIVER.