_Bust._ What? scale my invention before hand? you shall pardon Me for that; well, I'll commend you to your Uncle, and Tell him you'll be at home at supper with him. _Ant._ By no means, I cannot come to night (man) _Bust._ I know that too, you do not know a lye when you see it. _Mar._ Remember it must stretch for all night. _Bust._ I shall want stuffe, I doubt 'twill come to the other _Pistolet_. _Ant._ Well, lay out, you shall be no looser Sir. _Bust._ It must be faced, you know, there will be a yard of dissimulation At least (City-measure) and cut upon an untroth or two: Lyned With Fables, that must needs be, cold weather's coming, if it had A gallon of hypocrisie, 'twould do well: and hooked Together with a couple of conceits, That's necessity; well, I'll bring in my Bill: I'll warrant you as fair a lye by that time I have done With it, as any Gentleman i'th' Town can swear to, if he Would betray his Lord and Master. [_Exit._ _Ant._ So, so, this necessary trouble's over. _Mar._ I would you had bought an excuse of him Before he went: you'll want one for _Ismenia_. _Ant._ Tush, there needs none, there's no suspition yet, And I'll be arm'd before the next encounter, In a fast tye with my fair _Isabella_. _Enter_ Bustofa. _Mar._ Yes, you'll find your errand is before you now. _Bust._ Oh Gentlemen, look to your selves, ye are Men of another world else; your enemies are upon you; The old house of the _Bellides_ will fall upon your heads: Signior _Lisauro_. _Ant. Lisauro?_ _Bust._ And _Don_ what call you him? he's a Gentleman: Yet he has but a Yeomans name, Don _Tarso, Tarso_, and a dozen at their heels. _Ant. Lisauro, Tarso_, nor a dozen more Shall fright me from my ground, nor shun my path, Let 'em come on in their ablest fury. _Mar._ 'Tis worthily resolved: I'll stand by you Sir, This way, I am thy true friend. _Bust._ I'll be gone Sir, that one may live to tell what's become of you. Put up, put up, will you never learn to know a lye From an _Esop_'s Fables? there's a tast for you now. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Ismenia _and_ Aminta. _Mar._ Look Sir, what time of day is it? _Ant._ I know not, my eyes go false, I dare not trust 'em now, I prethee tell me (_Martin_) if thou canst, Is that _Ismenia_ or _Isabella_. _Mar._ This is the Lady, forget not, _Isabella_. _Ant._ If this face may be borrowed and lent out, If it can shift shoulders, and take other tyres, So, 'tis mine where ere I find it. _Ism._ Be sudden. [_Exit Aminta._ I cannot hold out long. _Mar._ Believ't she frowns.