+Moc.+ A man of my years! I feel My limbs as able as the best of them; And in all places else, except my hair, As green as a bay-tree: and for the whiteness Upon my head, although it now lie hid, What does it signify, but like a tree that blossoms, Before the fruit come forth? And, I hope, a tree That blossoms is neither dry nor wither'd. +Lor.+ But pray, what piece of beauty's that you mean To make the object of your love? +Moc.+ Ay, there You pose me; for I have a curious eye, And am as choice in that point to be pleased As the most youthful. Here, one's beauty takes me; And there, her parentage and good behaviour; Another's wealth or wit; but I'd have one Where all these graces meet, as in a centre. +Gas.+ You are too ambitious. You'll hardly find Woman or beast that trots sound of all four: There will be some defect. +Moc.+ Yet this I resolve on, To have a maid tender of age and fair. Old fish and young flesh, that's still my diet.[307] +Lor.+ What think you of a widow? +Moc.+ By no means: They are too politic a generation; Prov'd so by similes. Many voyages Make an experienc'd seaman; many offices A crafty knave; so many marriages A subtle, cunning widow. No, I'll have one That I may mould, like wax, unto my humour. +Lor.+ This doating ass is worth at least a million; And, though he cannot propagate his stock, Will be sure to multiply. I'll offer him my daughter. By computation of age he cannot Live past ten years; by that time she'll get strength To break this rotten hedge of matrimony And after have a fair green field to walk in, And wanton, where she please. [_Aside._] Signior, a word: And by this guess my love. I have a daughter Of beauty fresh, of her demeanour gentle, And of a sober wisdom: you know my estate. If you can fancy her, seek no further. +Moc.+ Thank you, signior: pray, of what age Is your daughter? +Lor.+ But sixteen at the most. +Moc.+ But sixteen! Is she no more? She is too young, then. +Gas.+ You wish'd for a young one, did you not? +Moc.+ Not that I would have her in years. +Gas.+ I warrant you! +Moc.+ Well, mark what I say: when I come to her, She'll ne'er be able to endure me. +Lor.+ I'll trust her. +Gas.+ I think your choice, sir, cannot be amended, She is so virtuous and so amiable. +Moc.+ Is she so fair and amiable? I'll have her. She may grow up to what she wants; and then I shall enjoy such pleasure and delight, Such infinite content in her embraces, I may contend with love for happiness! Yet one thing troubles me. +Gas.+ What's that? +Moc.+ I shall live so well on earth, I ne'er shall think of any other joys.