_Dutch._ Receive it: _Bartello_, to your old guard take the Princess, And so the Court break up. _Sil._ Farewel to all, And to that spotless heart my endless service. [_Exit._ _1 Lord._ What will this prove? _2 Lord._ I'll tell you a year hence, Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Sexta._ _Enter_ Penurio, Isabella, Claudio. _Pen._ Are you pleas'd now? have not I wrought this wonder _Non eben fatto Signieur_. _Cla._ Rarely _Penurio_. _Pen._ Close, close then, and work wax. _Cla._ I am studying for thee A dinner, that shall victual thee for ten year. _Pen._ Do you hear Mistriss? You know what a dundir whelp my Master is, I need not preach to ye, how unfit and wanting To give a woman satisfaction: How he stinks, and snores, a Bull's a better bed-fellow; And for his love, never let that deceive ye. _Isab._ Nay sure he loves me not. _Pen._ If he could coyn ye, Or turn ye into mettal, much might be then; He loves not any thing but what is traffique: I have heard him swear he would sell ye to the _Grand Signior_. _Isab._ The _Turk_? _Pen._ The very _Turk_, and how they would use ye. _Isab._ I'll fit him for't: the _Turk_? _Pen._ I know the price too: Now ye have time to pay him, pay him home Mistriss; Pay him o' th' pate, clout him for all his courtesies; Here's one that dances in your eyes, young delicate To work this vengeance; if ye let it slip now, There is no pittying of ye, od's precious, Mistriss, Were I his wife, I would so mall his Mazard, 'Tis charity, meer charity, pure charity, Are you the first? has it not been from _Eves_ time, Women would have their safe revenges this way? And good and gracious women, excellent women; Is't not a handsome Gentleman? a sweet Gentleman; View him from head to foot, a compleat Gentleman; When can ye hope the like again? I leave ye, And my revenge too, with ye; I know my office, I'll not be far off, be not long a fumbling, When danger shall appear, I'll give the 'larme. [_Exit._ _Isab._ You are welcome, Sir, and would it were my fortune To afford a Gentleman of your fair seeming, A freer entertainment than this house has, You partly know, Sir.-- _Cla._ Know, and pity Lady, Such sweetness in the bud, should be so blasted; Dare you make me your Servant? _Isab._ Dare you make Sir, That service worthy of a womans favour By constancy and goodness? _Cla._ Here I swear to ye, By the unvalued love I bear this beauty, (And kiss the Book too) never to be recreant, To honour ye, to truly love, and serve ye, My youth to wait upon ye, what my wealth has. _Isab._ Oh make me not so poor to sell affection, Those bought loves Sir, wear faster than the moneys; A handsome Gentleman.