+Aur.+ Ravish a lock From the yellow waiting-woman; use stratagems To get her silver whistle, and waylay Her pewter-knots or bodkin. +New.+ Pretty, pretty! +Bright.+ You think you have abus'd us now? +Aur.+ I'll tell you: Had I in all the world but forty mark, And that got by my needle, and making socks, And were that forty mark mill'd sixpences, Spur-royals, Harry-groats,[209] or such odd coin Of husbandry, as in the king's reign now Would never pass, I would despise you. +New.+ Lady, Your wit will make you die a wither'd virgin. +Bright.+ We shall in time, when your most tyrant tongue Hath made this house a wilderness, and you As unfrequented as a statesman fallen; When you shall quarrel with your face and glass, Till from your pencil you have rais'd new cheeks-- See you beg suitors, write bills o'er your door: "Here is an ancient lady to be let." +New.+ You think you are handsome now, and that your eyes Make star-shooting, and dart.[210] +Aur.+ 'T may be I do. +New.+ May I not prosper if I have not seen A better face in signs or gingerbread. +Tim.+ Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better. +Bright.+ What a sweet, innocent look you have! +Plot.+ Fie, gentlemen, Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can't With patience hear your blasphemies. Make me Your second, madam. +Tim.+ And make me your third. +Aur.+ O prodigy, to hear an image speak! Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings. I'll tell the faces. +Tim.+ Gentlemen, do I Look like one of them Trojans?[211] +Aur.+ 'tis So; Your Face Is missing here, sir; pray, step back again, And fill the number. You, I hope, have more Truth in you than to filch yourself away, And leave my room unfurnish'd. +Plot.+ By this light She'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend him For thievery. +Tim.+ Why, lady, do you think me Wrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212] +Aur.+ Surely You Stood So Simply, Like a Man Penning of recantations, that I suspected Y' had been a part of the monopoly. But now I know you have a tongue, and are A very man, I'll think you only dull, And pray for better utterance. +Plot.+ Lady, you make Rash judgment of him; he was only struck With admiration of your beauty. +Tim.+ Truly, and so I was. +Aur.+ Then you can wonder, sir? +Plot.+ Yes, when he sees such miracles as you. +Aur.+ And love me, can't you? +Tim.+ Love you! By this hand, I'd love a dog of your sweet looks: I am Enamour'd of you, lady. +Aur.+ Ha, ha, ha! now surely I wonder you wear not a cap: your case Requires warm things! I'll send you forth a caudle. [_Exit._ +Bright.+ The plague of rotten teeth, wrinkles, loud lungs, Be with you, madam.