_Fran._ Now 'tis ignorance I easily perceive that thus provokes thee, And not the love of truth; I'le lay my life If thou'dst been made a man, thou hadst been a coward. _Clo._ If to be valiant, be to be a Souldier; I'le tell ye true, I had rather be a Coward, I am sure with less sin. _Fra._ This Heresie must be look'd to in time: for if it spread 'Twill grow too Pestilent; were I a Scholar I would so hamper thee for thy opinion, That ere I left, I would write thee out of credit With all the world, and make thee not believ'd Even in indifferent things; that I would leave thee A reprobate out of the state of honour. By all good things, thou hast flung aspersions So like a fool (for I am angry with thee) Upon a sort of men, that let me tell thee Thy mothers mother would have been a Saint Had she conceiv'd a Souldier; they are people (I may commend 'em, while I speak but truth) Of all the old world, only left to keep Man as he was, valiant and vertuous. They are the model of those men, whose honours We heave our hands at when we hear recited. _Clo._ They are, and I have all I sought for, 'tis a souldier You love, hide it no longer; you have betray'd your self; Come, I have found your way of commendations, And what I said, was but to pull it from ye. _Fran._ 'Twas pretty, are you grown so cunning, _Clora_? I grant I love a souldier; But what souldier Will be a new task to ye? But all this I do imagine was but laid to draw me Out of my melancholy. _Clo._ I will have the man Ere I forsake ye. _Fran._ I must to my Chamber. _Clo._ May not I go along? _Fran._ Yes, but good wench Move me no more with these fond questions, They work like Rhubarb with me. _Clo._ Well, I will not. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _Enter_ Lelia _and her Waiting-woman_. _Lel._ How now? who was that you staid to speak withal. _Wom._ The old man forsooth. _Lei._ What old man? _Wom._ The poor old man that uses to come hither, he that you call Father. _Lel._ Have you dispatched him? _Wom._ No; he would fain speak with you. _Lel._ Wilt thou never learn more manners, Than to draw in such needy Rascals to disquiet me? Go, answer him I will not be at leasure. _Wom._ He will needs speak with you; and good old man he weeps so, That by my troth I have not the heart to deny him, Pray let him speak with you. _Lel._ Lord how tender stomach'd you are grown of late! You are not in love with him, are ye? If ye be, strike up the match; you shall have Three l. and a pair of blankets! will ye go answer him? _Wom._ Pray let him speak with you, he will not away else. _Lel._ Well, let him in then if there be no remedy; I thank Heaven I am Able to abuse him, I shall ne'r come clear else of him.