WILD. Aunt, though we were at strife when we were alone, yet now we unite like a politic state against the common enemy. PLEA. The common enemy! what is that? WILD. Women, and lovers in general. WID. Nay, then we have a party, niece: claim quickly, now is the time, according to the proverb, keep a thing seven years, and then if thou hast no use on't, throw't away. PLEA. Agreed, let's challenge our servants: by the love they have professed, they cannot in honour refuse to join with us. And see where they come! _Enter_ SAD _and_ CONSTANT, _and meet_ SECRET; _she whispers this to_ SAD. SEC. Sir, 'tis done. SAD. Be secret and grave, I'll warrant our design will take as we can wish. CON. Sweet Mistress Pleasant! WID. Servant Sad. SAD. Madam. WID. We are threatened to have a war waged against us: will you not second us? SAD. With these youths we'll do enough, madam. WID. I'll swear my servant gave hit for hit this morning, as if he had been a master in the noble science of wit. PLEA. Mine laid about him with spick and span[224] new arguments, not like the same man: his old sayings and precedents laid by. WID. Thus armed, then, we'll stand and defy them. WILD. Where's your points? sure, aunt, this should be your wedding-day, for you have taken the man for better for worse. WID. No, nephew, this will not prove the day, that we shall either give or take a ring. CARE. Hang me, if I know you can go back again with your honour. WILD. Or in justice refuse him liberty that has served out his time: either marry him, or provide for him, for he is maimed in your service. WID. Why, servant Sad, you'll arm? my nephew has thrown the first dart at you. CAPT. Hast hit, hast hit? WILD. No, captain; 'twas too wide. CAPT. Too wide! marry, he's an ill marksman that shoots wider than a widow. JOLLY. We are both in one hole, captain; but I was loth to venture my opinion, lest her ladyship should think I was angry, for I have a good mind to fall upon the widow. PLEA. You're a constant man, Master Jolly; you have been in that mind this twelvemonth's day. CON. You are in the right, madam; she has it to show under his hand, but she will not come in the list with him again: she threw him the last year. WID. Come, shall we eat oysters? Who's there? Call for some wine. Master Jolly, you are not warm yet. Pray, be free, you are at home. JOLLY. Your ladyship is merry. WID. You do not take it ill to have me assure you, you are at home here? WILD. Such another invitation (though in jest) will take away Master Sad's stomach. [_Oysters not brought in yet._ SAD. No, faith, Ned, though she should take him, it will not take away my stomach: my love is so fixed, I may wish my wishes, but she shall never want them to wait upon hers. PLEA. A traitor! bind him! has pulled down a side. Profess your love thus public?