+Alex.+ And here is Mary Bloodhound, my choleric shred of Cadwallader, married to this gentleman, who has a hundred a year dangling at your girdle there. +Wid.+ I pray, mistress, are you married to this gentleman? +Maid.+ By six i' th' morning, forsooth: he took me for Mary Bloodhound, having, it seems, never seen either of us before, and I being something amorously affected, as they say, to his Welsh ditties, answered to her name, lay with him all night, and married him this morning; so that as he took me for her, I took him as he was, forsooth. +Sim.+ She means for a fool; I'm fain to answer you. +Blood.+ Ha, ha, ha! Cupid, this twenty-four hours, has done nothing but cut cross-capers. +Alex.+ Do ye hear, Sir Bartholomew Bayard,[109] that leap before you look? it will handsomely become you to restore the box to that gentleman, and the magnitude of your desires upon this dainty, that is so amorously taken with your ditties. +Ran.+ _Hur wail[110] in woe, her plunge in pain._ And yet, by cat, her do not neither. Randalls will prove hurself Pritains born, and because hur understands Ancients was prave fellows and great travellers, there is hur box for hur. +Anc.+ I thank you. +Ran.+ And because was no remedies, before hur all, here will Randalls embrace Maries, and take a puss. [_Kisses._ _Enter +Jarvis+ brave._ +Jar.+ Save you, gallants, do you want any guest? Call me thy coz, and carry it handsomely. [_To the +Widow+._ +Blood.+ Who have we here, trow? +Alex.+ Dost thou know the gentleman that whispered to thee? +Wid.+ O, wondrous well! He bid me call him coz, and carry it handsomely. +Jar.+ Widow, would I were off again. +Wid.+ Know, all: this gentleman has, to obtain his lust and loose desires, served me this seven months under the shape and name of Jarvis. +Omnes.+ Possible! +Wid.+ Look well; do you not know him? +Blood.+ The very face of Jarvis. +Tim.+ Ay truly, father, and he were anything like him, I would swear 'twere he. +Jar.+ I must cast my skin, and am catch'd. Why, coz. +Wid.+ Come, you're cosen'd, And with a noble craft. He tempted me In mine own house, and I bid him keep's disguise But till this morning, and he should perceive I loved him truly; intending here before you To let him know't, especially i' th' presence Of you, sir, that intend me for your wife. +Anc.+ What should this mean? +Alex.+ Some witty trick, I warrant thee: prythee, despatch him presently, that we were at church! +Wid.+ First, then, know you for truth, sir, I mean never to marry. +Blood.+ How, woman? +Sim.+ She has despatched you, sir! +Wid.+ And for a truth, sir, know you, I never mean to be your whore.