+Aur.+ Well, sir, I'll be affable. SCENE III. _Enter +Timothy+ fantastically dressed, and a +Footman+._ +Plot.+ Here he comes! +Tim.+ Sirrah, wait me in the hall, And let your feet stink there: your air's not fit To be endured by ladies. +Plot.+ What! quarrel with your footman, sir? +Tim.+ Hang him, he casts a scent That drowns my perfumes, and is strong enough To cure the mother of palsy. Do I act A knight well? +Plot.+ This imperiousness becomes you, Like a knight newly dubb'd, sir. +Tim.+ What says the lady? +Plot.+ Speak lower. I have prepar'd her; show yourself A courtier: now she's yours! +Tim.+ If that be all, I'll court her as if some courtier had begot me I' th' gallery at a masque. +Plot.+ Madam, this gentleman Desires to kiss your hands. +Tim.+ And lips too, lady. +Aur.+ Sir, you much honour both. +Tim.+ I know that, Else I'd not kiss you. Yesterday I was In company with ladies, and they all Long'd to be touch'd by me. +Aur.+ You cannot cure The evil, sir; nor have your lips the virtue To restore ruins, or make old ladies young? +Tim.+ Faith, all the virtue that they have is, that My lips are knighted. I am born, sweet lady, To a poor fortune, that will keep myself And footman, as you see, to bear my sword In cuerpo[245] after me. I can at court, If I would, show my gilt[246] i' th' presence; look After the rate of some five thousands Yearly in old rents; and, were my father once Well wrapp'd in sear-cloth, I could fine for sheriff. +Plot.+ Heart! you spoil all. [_Aside._ +Tim.+ Why? +Plot.+ She verily believ'd y' had ne'er a father. [_Aside._ +Aur.+ Lives your father then, sir? That gentleman told me he was dead. +Tim.+ 'Tis true, I had forgot myself: he was drowned, lady, This morning, as he went to take possession Of a summer-house and land in the Canaries. +Plot.+ Now y' have recovered all. +Tim.+ D' you think I have Not wit enough to lie? [_Aside._ +Plot.+ Break your mind to her; She does expect it. +Tim.+ But, lady, this is not The business which I came for. +Aur.+ I'm at leisure To hear your business, sir. +Plot.+ Mark that! +Tim.+ Indeed, Sweet lady, I've a motion which was once Or twice this morning in my mouth, and then Slipp'd back again for fear. +Aur.+ Cowards ne'er won Ladies or forts, sir. +Tim.+ Say then I should feel Some motions, lady, of affection, might A man repair Paul's with his heart, or put it Into a tinder-box? +Aur.+ How mean you, sir? +Tim.+ Why, is your heart a stone or flint? +Aur.+ Be plain, sir, I understand you not.