_Host._ They are my guests Sir. _Cesar._ A ---- upon them, shew your jugling tricks in some other room. _Host._ And why not here Sir? _Cesar._ Hence, or sirra I shall spoil your figure flinging, and all their radicall questions. _Omnes._ Sir we vanish. [_Exeunt. Manet Host. & Cesar._ _Host. Signior Cesario_, you make bold with me, And somewhat I must tell you to a degree Of ill manners: they are my guests, and men I live by, And I would know by what authority You command thus far. _Cesar._ By my interest in your daughter. _Host._ Interest do you call't? as I remember I never put her out to Usury on that condition. _Cesar._ Pray thee be not angry. _Enter Bianca and Hostess._ I am come to make thee happy, and her happy: She's here; alas my pretty soul, I am come To give assurance that's beyond thy hope, Or thy beleif, I bring repentance 'bout me, And satisfaction, I will marry thee. _Bianca._ Ha? _Cesar._ As I live I will, but do not entertain't With too quick an apprehension of joy, For that may hurt thee, I have heard some dye of't. _Bian._ Do not fear me. _Cesar._ Then thou think'st I feign This protestation, I will instantly Before these testifie my new alliance, Contract my self unto thee, then I hope We may be more private. _Host._ But thou shalt not sir, For so has many a maiden-head been lost, and many a bastard gotten. _Ces._ Then to give you the best of any assurance in the world, Entreat thy father to go fetch a Preist Wee will instantly to bed, and there be married. _Bian._ Pride hath not yet forsaken you I see, Though prosperity has. _Host._ Sir you are too confident To fashion to your self a dream of purchase When you are a begger. _Ces._ You are bold with me. _Hostes._ Doe we not know your value is cried down Fourscore i'th' hundred. _Bian._ Oh sir I did love you With such a fixed heart, that in that minute Wherein you slighted, or contemn'd me rather, I took a vow to obey your last decree, And never more look up at any hope Should bring me comfort that way: and though since Your Foster-mother, and the fair _Clarissa_ Have in the way of marriage despis'd you, That hath not any way bred my revenge, But compassion rather. I have found So much sorrow in the way to a chaste wedlock That here I will set down, and never wish To come to'th' journies end. Your suit to mee Henceforth be ever silenc'd. _Cesar._ My _Bianca_. _Hostes._ Henceforward pray forbear her and my house: She's a poor virtuous wench, yet her estate May weigh with yours in a gold balance. _Host._ Yes, and her birth in any Heralds office in Christendom. _Hostes._ It may prove so: When you'll say, you have leapt a Whiting. [_Exit._