_Enter_ Sir Gregory. You are welcome, Sir, this Banquet will serve, When it is crown'd with such a dainty as you Expect, and must have. _Sir Greg._ 'Tush, these sweet-meats are but sauce to that, Well, if there be any honesty, or true word in a dream, She's mine own, nay, and chang'd extreamly, Not the same Woman. _Cun._ Who, not the Lady? _Sir Greg._ No, not to me, the edge of her tongue is taken off, Gives me very good words, turn'd up-side-down to me, And we live as quietly as two _Tortoises_, if she hold on, As she began in my dream. [_Soft Musick._ _Cun._ Nay, if Love send forth such Predictions, You are bound to believe 'em, there's the watch-word Of her coming; to your practis'd part now, If you hit it, _Æquus Cupido nobis_. [_Both go into the Gown._ _Sir Greg._ I will warrant you, Sir, I will give armes to Your Gentry, look you forward to your business, I am an eye behind you, place her in that Chair, And let me alone to grope her out. _Enter_ Mirabell. _Cun._ Silence, Lady, your sweet presence illustrates This homely roof, and, as course entertainment; But where affections are both Host and Guest, They cannot meet unkindly; please you sit, Your something long stay made me unmannerly, To place before you, you know this friend here, He's my Guest, and more especially, That this our meeting might not be too single, Without a witness to't. _Mirab._ I came not unresolv'd, Sir, And when our hands are clasp'd in that firm faith Which I expect from you; fame shall be bold To speak the loudest on't: oh you grasp me Somewhat too hard friend. _Cun._ That's Love's eager will, I'll touch it gentlier. [_Kisses her hand._ _Mirab._ That's too low in you, Less it be doubly recompenc'd in me. [_She kisses his hand._ _Clow._ Puh, I must stop my mouth, I shall be choakt else. _Cun._ Come, we'll not play and trifle with delayes, We met to joyn these hands, and willingly I cannot leave it till confirmation. _Mirab._ One word first, how does your friend, kind Sir _Gregory_? _Cun._ Why do you mention him? you love him not? _Mir._ I shall love you the less if you say so, Sir, In troth I love him, but 'tis you deceive him, This flattering hand of yours does rob him now, Now you steal his right from him, and I know I shall have hate for't, his hate extreamly. _Cun._ Why I thought you had not come so weakly arm'd, Upon my life the Knight will love you for't, Exceedingly love you, for ever love you. _Mir._ I, you'll perswade me so. _Cun._ Why he's my friend, And wishes me a fortune equal with him, I know, and dare speak it for him.