[Enter _Juan_, _Alonzo_, and _Perez_.] Juan de Castro: Why thou art not married indeed? Michael Perez: No, no, pray think so, Alas I am a fellow of no reckoning, Not worth a Ladies eye. Alonzo: Wou'dst thou steal a fortune, And make none of all thy friends acquainted with it, Nor bid us to thy wedding? Michael Perez: No indeed, There was no wisdom in't, to bid an Artist, An old seducer to a femal banquet, I can cut up my pye without your instructions. Juan de Castro: Was it the wench i'th' veil? Michael Perez: Basto 'twas she, The prettiest Rogue that e're you look'd upon, The lovingst thief. Juan de Castro: And is she rich withal too? Michael Perez: A mine, a mine, there is no end of wealth Coronel, I am an asse, a bashfull fool, prethee Coronel, How do thy compa[ni]es fill now? Juan de Castro: You are merry Sir, 184] You intend a safer war at home belike now. Michael Perez: I do not think I shall fight much this year Coronel, I find my self given to my ease a little, I care not if I sell my foolish company, They are things of hazard. Alonzo: How it angers me, This fellow at first fight should win a Lady, A rich young wench, and I that have consum'd My time and art in searching out their subtleties, Like a fool'd Alchymist blow up my hopes still? When shall we come to thy house and be freely merry? Michael Perez: When I have manag'd her a little more, I have an house to entertain an army. Alonzo: If thy wife be fair, thou wilt have few less Come to thee. Michael Perez: But where they'l get entertainment is the point Signior. I beat no Drum. Alonzo: You need none but her taber, May be I'le march after a month or two, To get me a fresh stomach. I find Coronel A wantonness in wealth, methinks I agree not with, 'Tis such a trouble to be married too, And have a thousand things of great importance, Jewels and plates, and fooleries molest me, To have a mans brains whimsied with his wealth: Before I walk'd contentedly. [Enter _Servant_.] Servant: My Mistris Sir is sick, because you are absent, She mourns and will not eat. Michael Perez: Alas my Jewel, Come I'le goe with thee, Gentlemen your fair leaves, You see I am ti'd a little to my yoke, Pray pardon me, would ye had both such loving wives. Juan de Castro: I thank ye [Exit _Perez_, Servant.