_Ros._ Still troubled with these vanities? Heaven bless us; What are we born to? would ye speak with any of my people? Go in, Sir, I am busie. _Bel._ This is not she sure: Is this two Children at a Birth? I'le be hang'd then: Mine was a merry Gentlewoman, talkt daintily, Talkt of those matters that befitted women; This is a parcel-pray'r-book; I'm serv'd sweetly; And now I am to look too; I was prepar'd for th' other way. _Ros._ Do you know that man? _Oria._ Sure I have seen him, Lady. _Ros._ Methinks 'tis pity such a lusty fellow Should wander up and down and want employment. _Bel._ She takes me for a Rogue: you may do well, Madam, To stay this wanderer, and set him a work, forsooth, He can do something that may please your Ladiship. I have heard of Women that desire good breedings, Two at a birth, or so. _Ros._ The fellow's impudent. _Oria._ Sure he is crazed. _Ros._ I have heard of men too, that have had good manners; Sure this is want of grace; indeed 'tis great pity The young man has been bred so ill; but this lewd Age Is full of such examples. _Bel._ I am founder'd, And some shall rue the setting of me on. _Mir._ Ha? so bookish, Lady, is it possible? Turn'd holy at the heart too? I'le be hang'd then: Why this is such a feat, such an activity, Such fast and loose: a veyl too for your Knavery? _O dio, dio!_ _Ros._ What do you take me for, Sir? _Mir._ An hypocrite, a wanton, a dissembler, How e're ye seem, and thus ye are to be handled. Mark me _Belleur_, and this you love, I know it. _Ros._ Stand off, bold Sir. _Mir._ You wear good Cloaths to this end, Jewels, love Feasts, and Masques. _Ros._ Ye are monstrous saucy. _Mir._ All this to draw on fools? and thus, thus Lady, Ye are to be lull'd. _Bel._ Let her alone, I'le swinge ye else, I will 'faith; for though I cannot skill o'this matter My self, I will not see another do it before me, And do it worse. _Ros._ Away, ye are a vain thing; You have travell'd far, Sir, to return again A windy and poor Bladder: you talk of Women, That are not worth the favour of a common one; The grace of her grew in an Hospital: Against a thousand such blown fooleries I am able to maintain good Womens honours, Their freedoms, and their fames, and I will do it. _Mir._ She has almost struck me dumb too. _Ros._ And declaim Against your base malicious tongues; your noises; For they are nothing else: You teach behaviours? Or touch us for our freedoms? teach your selves manners, Truth and sobriety, and live so clearly That our lives may shine in ye; and then task us: It seems ye are hot, the suburbs will supply ye. Good Women scorn such Gamesters; so I'le leave ye, I am sorry to see this: 'faith Sir, live fairly. [_Exit._