FLO. Or run retrograde To his just pleasures: these might have abridg'd And weaken'd his affection. But when beauty, Composed temper, and a graceful presence, Cloth'd both with majesty and a sweet smile Of such attractive quality, as the adamant Cannot more virtually enforce its object, Than these impressive motives of content: He merits not the title of a man, Much less the embraces of so choice a spouse, Who violates his faith, deceives her trust. CAR. I am directly, sir, of your opinion. PAL. So I. MOR. And I. ALL. So all of us concur, To make our judgments more unanimous. TIN. And, to confirm't, may you be pleas'd to give Attention to a story I shall tell, As true as strange, to manifest th' affronts My patience has endur'd, and to what height His luxury ascended. ALL. Madam, do; We shall lend ready ears to your discourse. TIN. It chanc'd one day,--and ofttimes so it chanc'd, For doubtful thoughts have ever jealous eyes,-- That my suspicion had begot a fear That my neglectful husband had a kindness, And more than usual, unto my maid-- A proper maid, if so she might be call'd: Now, to possess myself whether those grounds Whereon I built might just inducements be Of my late-hatch'd fears, I made pretence, (What is it jealousy will not design?) To go from home. But this was no recede, But a retire: for in the ev'ning-time, When these two amorous pair expected least Such an unwelcome visit, I repair'd To a close arbour set with sycamores, The tamarisk, and sweet-breath'd eglantine, That local object which I fix'd upon, Not of myself, but by direction, Where I found out what I suspected long: Such wanton dalliance as the Lemnian smith Never discover'd more, when he prepar'd His artful net t' enwreath his Eriena Impal'd in Mars his arms. ALL. Could you contain Your passion in such Aretine a posture? TIN. With much reluctancy I did indeed, Curbing my temper, which was much enrag'd, With this too mild expression, "Fie, for shame! Minion, I'll have none of this work, not I." "You may, when it is offer'd you," said he. 1ST BOY. Ha, ha, ha! this was a bold-fac'd niggler;[130] trust me, wag. [_Aside._ FLO. Was't not enough for him t' enjoy his pleasure, But he must jeer you too? CAR. As if you were A stale to his light dalliance! PAL. Or a scorn to his embraces! Was her servile beauty, Expos'd to sale, dishonour of her sex, To be compar'd to yours? SAL. Whose native splendour, Without the help of art, which makes complexion By borrow'd colours much unlike itself: May challenge a prerogative i' th' rank Of our completest features. MOR. It seems strange, How you could brook th' affront without revenge On that insulting prostitute.