ANA. Luck! by that candle, it was mere rashness, and oversight; would any man have ventured to play so open, and forsake his ward? D--n me, if he have not eternally undone himself in court, and discountenanced us that were his main countenance, by it. AMO. Forgive it now: it was the solecism of my stars. CRI. The wring by the hand, and the banquet, is ours. MER. O, here's a lady feels like a wench of the first year; you would think her hand did melt in your touch; and the bones of her fingers ran out at length when you prest 'em, they are so gently delicate! He that had the grace to print a kiss on these lips, should taste wine and rose-leaves. O, she kisses as close as a cockle. Let's take them down, as deep as our hearts, wench, till our very souls mix. Adieu, signior: good faith I shall drink to you at supper, sir. ANA. Stay, monsieur. Who awards you the prize? CRI. Why, his proper merit, sir; you see he has played down your grand garb-master, here. ANA. That's not in your logic to determine, sir: you are no courtier. This is none of your seven or nine beggarly sciences, but a certain mystery above them, wherein we that have skill must pronounce, and not such fresh men as you are. CRI. Indeed, I must declare myself to you no profest courtling; nor to have any excellent stroke at your subtile weapons; yet if you please, I dare venture a hit with you, or your fellow, sir Dagonet, here. ANA. With me! CRI. Yes, sir. ANA. Heart, I shall never have such a fortune to save myself in a fellow again, and your two reputations, gentlemen, as in this. I'll undertake him. HED. Do, and swinge him soundly, good Anaides. ANA. Let me alone; I'll play other manner of play, than has been seen yet. I would the prize lay on't. MER. It shall if you will, I forgive my right. ANA. Are you so confident! what's your weapon? CRI. At any, I, sir. MER. The Perfect Close, that's now the best. ANA. Content, I'll pay your scholarity. Who offers? CRI. Marry, that will I: I dare give you that advantage too. ANA. You dare! well, look to your liberal sconce. AMO. Make your play still, upon the answer, sir. ANA. Hold your peace, you are a hobby-horse. ASO. Sit by me, master. MER. Now, Crites, strike home. [A CHARGE.] CRI. You shall see me undo the assured swaggerer with a trick, instantly: I will play all his own play before him; court the wench in his garb, in his phrase, with his face; leave him not so much as a look, an eye, a stalk, or an imperfect oath, to express himself by, after me. [ASIDE TO MERCURY.] MER. Excellent, Crites. ANA. When begin you, sir? have you consulted?