+Lor.+ Well, wife, Where was your matron's wisdom, that should keep A vigilant care upon your house and daughter, And not have suffer'd her to be surpris'd With every loose aspèct and gazing eye That suck in hot and lustful motions? You were best turn bawd, and prostitute her beauty. +Æmi.+ You were best turn an old ass, And meddle with your bonds and brokage. +Lor.+ What was his business? +Luc.+ To tell you true, sir, he is one of those, Whom love and fortune have conspir'd to fool, And make the subject of a woman's will. His idle brain, being void of better reason, Is fill'd with toys and humours; and, for want Of other exercise, he takes great pains For the expressing of his folly: sometimes With starts and sighs, hung head, and folded arms, Sonnets and pitiful tunes; forgetting All due respect unto himself and friends With doating on a mistress: she again As little pitying him, whose every frown Strikes him as dead as fate, and makes him walk The living monument of his own sorrow. +Lor.+ I apprehend he came a-wooing to thee. 'Tis so, and thou didst scorn him, girl: 'twas well done. I'll ease thee of that care: see, I have brought A husband to thy hand. Look on him well; A worthy man, and a clarissimo. +Luc.+ A husband, said you? Now Venus be propitious! He looks more like the remedy of love, A julip to cool it. She that could take fire At such a dull flame as his eyes, I should Believe her more than touchwood! [_Aside._ +Moc.+ A ravishing creature! If her condition answer but her feature, I am fitted. Her form answers my affection; It arrides[316] me exceedingly. I'll speak to her. [_Aside._ Fair mistress, what your father has propos'd In the fair way of contract, I stand ready To ratify; and let me not seem less In your esteem, because I am so easy In my consent. Women love out of fancy, Men from advice. +Luc.+ You do not mean in earnest? Now Cupid deliver me! +Moc.+ How, not in earnest! As I am strong and mighty in desires, You wrong me to question it. +Luc.+ Good sir, consider The infinite distance that is between us In age and manners. +Moc.+ No distance at all: My age is youthful, and your youth is aged. +Luc.+ But you are wise, and will you sell your freedom Unto a female tyranny, in despair E'er to be quit? You run a strange adventure, Without perceiving what a certain hazard A creature of my inclination Is apt to draw you to. +Moc.+ I cannot think it.