WAG. O, thy very name, Like to a hatchet, cleaves my heart in twain. When first I saw thee in those little breeches, I laugh'd for joy, but when I heard thy speeches, I smil'd downright, for I was almost frantic, A modern knight should be so like an antic In words and deeds. Those pinken-eyes[58] of thine, For I shall ne'er be blest to call them mine---- ABRA. Say not so, sweetheart. WAG. How they did run, not rheumaticly run, But round about the room, one over one! That wide mouth? no, small: no, but middle-size, That nose dominical, that head, like----wise. PEN. Very good: d'ye mark that head likewise? ABRA. She has an excellent wit. PEN. I'll now into her, sir: observe what follows. Now, turtle, mourning still for the party? for whom are you working that purse? ABRA. For me, I warrant her. [_Aside._] WAG. What news, good cousin? I hope you have not revealed my love. PEN. Yes, faith, I have acquainted the knight with all; and thou may'st be ashamed to abuse a gentleman so slanderously. He swears he ne'er lay with you. WAG. Lie with me? alas! no, I say not so, nor no man living; but there was one night above the rest, that I dreamt he lay with me; and did you ne'er hear of a child begot in a dream. ABRA. By this light, that very night I dreamt she lay with me. [_Aside._] PEN. Ay, but Sir Abraham is no dreaming knight: in short, he contemns you, he scorns you at his heels. ABRA. By God, so he lies. I have the most ado to forbear, but that I would hear a little more. PEN. And has sent this halter. You may hang yourself, or you may cut your throat: here's a knife, too. WAG. Well, I will love him in despite of all, Howe'er he uses me! 'tis not the shame Of being examin'd or the fear of whipping---- PEN. Make as if thou wouldst kill thyself. [_Aside._] WAG. ----should move me, would but he vouchsafe his love. Bear him this purse, fill'd with my latest breath. [_Blows in it._ I lov'd thee, Abraham Ninny, even in death. [_Offers to stab._ ABRA. Hold! hold! thy knight commands thee for to hold. I sent no halter. Poor soul, how it pants! Take courage, look up. PEN. Look, Sir Abraham in person comes to see you. WAG. O, let me die, then, in his worship's arms! ABRA. Live long and happy to produce thy baby: I am thy knight, and thou shalt be my lady. Frown, dad, fret, mother, so my love look cheerly: Thou hast my heart, and thou hast bought it dearly; And for your pains, if Abraham live t' inherit, He will not be unmindful of your merit. Wear thou this ring, whilst I thy labours task. This purse wear in my cap, anon i' th' masque[59]. WAG. O happy woman! ABRA. To supper let's, and merry be as may be. PEN. Now, God send every wise knight such a lady. [_Exeunt._ FOOTNOTES: