MATH. Good God, how abject is this single life! I'll not abide it: father, friends, nor kin, Shall once dissuade me from affecting him.[483] A man's a man; and Ned is more than one: I' faith, I'll have thee, Ned, or I'll have none. Do what they can, chafe, chide, or storm their fill, Mathea is resolv'd to have her will. PIS. I can no longer hold my patience. [_Coming forward._ Impudent villain[484] and lascivious girls, I have o'erheard your vile conversions! You scorn philosophy! you'll be no nun! You must needs kiss the purse, because he sent it! And you, forsooth, you flirtgill, minion, A brat scant folded in the dozens at most,[485] You'll have your will, forsooth! What will you have? MATH. But twelve year old? Nay, father, that's not so; Our sexton told me I was three years mo. PIS. I say but twelve: you're best tell me I lie. What, sirrah Anthony! ANTH. Here, sir. PIS. Come here, sir; And you, light huswives, get you in: Stare not upon me, move me not to ire. [_Exeunt sisters._ Nay, sirrah, stay you here, I'll talk with you. Did I retain thee, villain, in my house, Give thee a stipend, twenty marks by year, And hast thou thus infected my three girls, Urging the love of those I most abhorr'd? Unthrifts [and] beggars--what is worse-- And all because they are your countrymen. ANTH. Why, sir, I taught them not To keep a merchant's book, or cast account: Yet to a word much like that word account-- PIS. A knave past grace is past recovery. Why, sirrah Frisco, villain, loggerhead! Where art thou? _Enter_ FRISCO _the Clown_. FRIS. Here's a calling indeed! a man were better to live a lord's life and do nothing, than a serving creature, and never be idle. O master, what a mess of brewis stands now upon the point of spoiling by your hastiness. Why, they were able to have got a good stomach with child, even with the sight of them; and for a vapour--O precious vapour! Let but a wench come near them with a painted face, and you should see the paint drop and curdle on her cheeks, like a piece of dry Essex cheese toasted at the fire. PIS. Well, sirrah, leave this thought, and mind my words. Give diligence; inquire about For one that is expert in languages, A good musician and a Frenchman born, And bring him hither to instruct my daughters. I'll ne'er trust more a smooth-fac'd Englishman. FRIS. What, must I bring one that can speak languages? what an old ass is my master! [_Aside._] Why, he may speak _flaunte taunte_ as well as French, for I cannot understand him. PIS. If he speak French, thus he will say, _Oui, Oui_. What, can'st thou remember it?