_Hum._ I take your gentle offer, and withal Yield love again for love reciprocal. _Enter_ Luce. _M[e]r._ What _Luce_, within there? _Luce._ Call'd you Sir? _Mer._ I did Give entertainment to this Gentleman, And see you be not froward: to her, Sir: My presence will but be an eye-soar to you. [_Exit._ _Hum._ Fair Mistriss _Luce_, how do you, are you well? Give me your hand, and then I pray you tell, How doth your little Sister, and your Brother? And whether you love me or any other. _Luce._ Sir, these are quickly answer'd. _Hum._ So they are, Where Women are not cruel: but how far Is it now distant from the place we are in, Unto that blessed place your Fathers Warren. _Luce._ What makes you think of that, Sir? _Hum._ Even that face, For stealing Rabbets whilome in that place, God _Cupid_, or the Keeper, I know not whether, Unto my cost and charges brought you thither, And there began. _Lu[ce]._ Your game, Sir. _Hum._ Let no game, Or any thing that tendeth to the same, Be evermore remembred, thou fair killer For whom I sate me down and brake my Tiller. _Wife._ There's a kind Gentleman, I warrant you, when will you do as much for me _George_? _Luce._ Beshrew me Sir, I am sorry for your losses, But as the proverb says, _I cannot cry_, I would you had not seen me. _Hum._ So would I. Unless you had more maw to do me good. _Luce._ Why, cannot this strange passion be withstood, Send for a Constable and raise the Town. _Hum._ Oh no, my valiant love will batter down Millions of Constables, and put to flight, Even that great Watch of Midsummer day at night. _Luce._ Beshrew me, Sir, 'twere good I yielded then, Weak Women cannot hope, where valiant men Have no resistance. _Hum._ Yield then, I am full Of pity, though I say it, and can pull Out of my pocket thus a pair of Gloves. Look _Lucy_, look, the dogs tooth, nor the Doves Are not so white as these; and sweet they be, And whipt about with silk, as you may see: If you desire the price, sute from your eye, A beam to this place, and you shall espie _F. S._ which is to say my sweetest Honey, They cost me three and two pence, or no money. _Luce._ Well Sir, I take them kindly, and I thank you; What would you more? _Hum._ Nothing. _Lu._ Why then farewel. _Hum._ Nor so, nor so, for Lady I must tell, Before we part, for what we met together, God grant me time, and patience, and fair weather. _Luce._ Speak and declare your mind in terms so brief.