_Eug._ Here, Even here, where I am happy to receive Assurance of my _Alvarez_ return, I will kneel down: and may those holy thoughts That now possess me wholly, make this place A Temple to me, where I may give thanks For this unhop'd for blessing Heavens kind hand Hath pour'd upon me. _Luc._ Let my duty Madam Presume, if you have cause of joy, to intreat I may share in it. _Bob._ 'Tis well, he has forgot how I frighted him yet. _Eug._ Thou shalt: but first kneel with me _Lucio_, No more _Posthumia_ now, thou hast a Father, A Father living to take off that name, Which my too credulous fears, that he was dead, Bestow'd upon thee: thou shalt see him _Lucio_ And make him young again, by seeing thee, Who only hadst a being in my Womb When he went from me, _Lucio_: Oh my joyes, So far transport me, that I must forget The ornaments of Matrons, modesty, And grave behaviour; but let all forgive me If in th' expression of my soul's best comfort Though old, I do a while forget mine age And play the wanton in the entertainment Of those delights I have so long despair'd of. _Luc._ Shall I then see my Father? _Eug._ This hour _Lucio_; Which reckon the beginning of thy life I mean that life, in which thou shalt appear To be such as I brought thee forth, a man, This womanish disguise, in which I have So long conceal'd thee, thou shalt now cast off, And change those qualities thou didst learn from me, For masculine virtues, for which seek no tutor, But let thy fathers actions be thy precepts; And for thee _Zancho_, now expect reward For thy true service. _Bob._ Shall I? you hear fellow _Stephano_, learn to know me more respectively; how dost thou think I shall become the Stewards chair, ha? will not these slender hanches show well with a chain, and a gold night-Cap after supper, when I take the accompts? _Eug._ Haste, and take down those Blacks with which my chamber Hath like the widow, her sad Mistriss mourn'd, And hang up for it, the rich _Persian_ Arras, Us'd on my wedding night, for this to me Shall be a second marriage: send for Musique, And will the Cooks to use their best of cunning To please the palat. _Bob._ Will your Ladyship have a Potato-pie, 'tis a good stirring dish for an old Lady, after a long _Lent_. _Eug._ Begone I say: why Sir, you can goe faster? _Bob._ I could Madam: but I am now to practise the Stewards pace, that's the reward I look for: every man must fashion his gate, according to his calling: you fellow _Stephano_, may walk faster, to overtake preferment: so, usher me. _Luc._ Pray Madam, let the wastcoat I last wrought Be made up for my Father: I will have A Cap, and Boot-hose sutable to it.