_Alin. I seek my self_; something I yet remember That bears that Motto; 'tis not he, he's younger, And far more tender; for that self-sake (Pilgrim) Be who it will, take this. _Ped._ Your hand I dare take, That be far from me, Lady, thus I kiss it, And thus I bless it too; _Be constant fair still,_ _Be good,_ and live to be a great example. [_Exit._ _Alin._ One word more (Pilgrim) has amaz'd me strangly, _Be constant fair still_; 'tis the Posie here; And here without, _Be good_; he wept to see me. _Juletta._ _Enter_ Juletta. _Jul._ Madam. _Alin._ Take this Key, and fetch me The marygold-Jewel that lies in my little Cabinet; I think 'tis that; what eyes had I to miss him? [_Ex._ Jul. O me, what thoughts? he had no beard then, and As I remember well, he was more ruddy. _Enter_ Juletta. If this be he, he has a manly face yet, A goodly shape. _Jul._ Here Madam. _Alin._ Let me see it; 'Tis so true, it must be he, or nothing, He spake the words just as they stand engraven here: I seek my self, and am but my selfs shadow; Alas, poor man! didst thou not meet him, _Juletta_? The Pilgrim, Wench? _Jul._ He went by long ago, Madam. _Alin._ I forgot to give him something. _Jul._ 'Twas ill done, Lady; For o' my troth, he is the handsomest man I saw this many a day; would he had all my wealth, And me to boot; what ails she to grow so sullen? _Alin._ Come, I forgot, but I will recompence it. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ _Enter_ Alphonso, Curio, Seberto, Juletta, _Porter, and_ _Servants._ _Alph._ Can she slip through a Cat-hole? tell me that; resolve me; Can she flye in the air? is she a thing invisible? Gone, and none know it! _Seb._ You amaze your servants. _Alph._ Some pelting Rogue has watcht her hour of itching, And claw'd her, claw'd her, do you mark me? claw'd her; Some that I foster up. _Cur._ They are all here, Sir. _Alph._ Let 'em be where they will, they are arrant Rascals, And by this hand, I'll hang all. _Seb._ Deal calmly; You will not give 'em time to answer ye. _Al._ I'll choak 'em, famish 'em, what say you, Wagtail? You knew her mind; you were of counsel with her, Tell me, and tell me true. _Cur._ Ask with discretion. _Alph._ Discretion? hang discretion, hang ye all: Let me know where she is. _Jul._ Would you know o' me, Sir? _Al._ O' thee, Sir? I, o' thee, Sir; what art thou Sir? _Jul._ Her woman, Sir, and't like your Worship, Sir. _Alph._ Her Bawd, her Fiddle-stick; Her Lady-fairy, to oyl the doors o' nights, That they may open with discretion, Her Gin, her Nut-Crack. _Jul._ 'Tis very well, Sir.