SCEN. III. _Enter_ ATLANTA _and_ AVRELIA. _Aur._ But dost thou thinke hee’le come? _Att._ He cannot chuse. I sent him such a louing answer backe By his Solliciter, able to make An Eunuch to come with the conceit. The houre’s almost at hand. Madam, command A banquet be set forth: My charge shall be _Enter with a Banquet, Women._ To giue him intertainement: whilst your Grace, _Loretta_, and the Ladies of your traine, Or any others you shall please to appoint, Be ready to surprise him. So ’tis well. Now leaue the rest to mee. _Aur._ My deare _Atlanta_, I commend thy care. _Att._ Call it my dutie, Madam, and the loue I owe to sacred vertue, to defend The same of women. All withdraw awhile, _Ex. Women._ I thinke I heare him comming. I, ’tis he. _Enter_ Misogynos _and Swash_. _Swash._ This is the place, Sir, she appoynted you. _Mis._ Is this the Orchard then, Where I must pluck the fruit from that faire tree? _Swash._ I would it might proue Stone-fruit, And so choke him. _Mis._ Ha! what’s here? a banquet? _Swa._ Banquet? Where? _Mis._ Readie prepar’d? why, this is excellent! What a kind creature ’tis? _Swa._ Did not I say How monstrously she lou’d you? Come, fall to. _Mis._ Before my Mistresse come? _Swa._ I’faith Sir, I; This is but onely a prouocatiue, To make you strong and lustie for the incounter. _Mis._ And here’s Wine too; Nothing but Bloud and Spirit. Fall to, _Swash_. _Swa._ A sweetthing is loue, That fills both heart and mind: There is no comfort in the world, To women that are kind. Here, Sir, I’le drinke to you. _Mis._ I would she would come away once: Now, methinks, I could performe. And see! but wish and haue. _Enter_ Atlanta. _Atlan._ Oh, are you come? I see you keep your houre. _Mis._ I should be sorry else. _Atl._ Nay, keepe your place. _Mis._ Will you sit downe then? Sirrah? Walke aloofe. _Atl._ Let him be doing something. Here, take this. _Mis._ I haue made bold to taste your Wine and Cates. And when you please, we’le try the operation. _Atl._ How? _Mis._ You know my mind. _Atlan._ You men are all so fickle, that poore we Doe not know whom to trust. But doe you loue me truely? _Mis._ By this kisse. _Atl._ No, saue that labour, Sir: I’le take your word. Yet, how should I beleeue you, when so late You rail’d against our Sex, and slander’d vs? _Mis._ Oh doe not thinke of that, that’s done and gone. Doe not recall what’s past. I now recant: And (by this hand) I loue thee truly, Loue. _Atl._ May I beleeue all this? _Mis._ Come hither, _Swash_. How often haue I sworne to thee alone, I lou’d this Lady; neuer none but shee? _Swa._ Yes truely, that he has.