+Tim.+ Not understand me? Y'are the [first] lady that e'er put a man To speak plain English: some would understand Riddles and signs. Say, I should love you, lady! +Aur.+ There should be no love lost, sir. +Tim.+ Say you so? Then, by this air, my teeth e'en water at you: I long to have some offspring by you. We Shall have an excellent breed of wits: I mean my youngest son shall be a poet; and My daughters, like their mother, every one A wench o' th' game. And for my eldest son, He shall be like me, and inherit. Therefore Let's not defer our joys, but go to bed And multiply. +Aur.+ Soft, sir, the priest must first Discharge his office. I do not[247] mean to marry, _Enter +Dorcas+ out of her Puritan dress._ Like ladies in New England, where they couple With no more ceremony than birds choose their mate Upon St Valentine's day. +Dor.+ Madam, the preacher Is sent for to a churching, and doth ask If you be ready: he shall lose, he says, His chrysome[248] else. +Aur.+ O miracle! out of Your little ruff, Dorcas, and in the fashion! Dost thou hope to be saved? +Dor.+ Pray, madam, do not Abuse me; I will tell you more anon. +Plot.+ Tell him she's coming. +Aur.+ Sir, please you, partake Of a slight banquet? [_Exit +Dorcas+._ +Plot.+ Just as you are sat, I'll steal the priest in. +Tim.+ Do. +Plot.+ When you are join'd, Be sure you do not oversee, but straight Retire to bed: she'll follow. 'Tis not three o'clock i' th' afternoon. +Tim.+ 'Tis but drawing Your curtains, and you do create your night. All times to lovers and new-married folks May be made dark. +Tim.+ I will, then. By this room, She's a rare lady! I do almost wish I could change sex, and that she might beget Children on me. +Plot.+ Nay, will you enter? +Tim.+ Lady, Pray, will you show the way? +Plot.+ Most city-like! 'Slid, take her by the arm, and lead her in. +Tim.+ Your arm, sweet lady. [_Exeunt._ SCENE IV. _+Bright+, +Newcut+._ +Bright.+ But are you sure they're they? +New.+ I'll not believe My treacherous eyes again, but trust some dog To guide me, if I did not see his uncle Coming this way, and Bannswright with him. +Bright.+ Who? The fellow that brings love to banns, and banns To bare thighs 'bout the town? +New.+ The very same, sir; The City-Cupid, that shoots arrows betwixt Party and party. All the difference is, He has his eyes, but they he brings together Sometimes do not see one another, till They meet i' th' church. +Bright.+ What say you now, if Warehouse Should in displeasure marry?