_Bian._ I praise not that; Too fond is as unseemly as too churlish: I would not have a husband of that proneness, To kiss me before company, for a world: Beside, ’tis tedious to see one thing still, sir, Be it the best that ever heart affected; Nay, were ‘t yourself, whose love had power you know To bring me from my friends, I would not stand thus, And gaze upon you always; troth, I could not, sir; As good be blind, and have no use of sight, As look on one thing still: what’s the eye’s treasure, But change of objects? You are learned, sir, And know I speak not ill; ’tis full as virtuous For woman’s eye to look on several men, As for her heart, sir, to be fixed on one. _Lean._ Now thou com’st home to me; a kiss for that word. _Bian._ No matter for a kiss, sir; let it pass; ’Tis but a toy, we ‘ll not so much as mind it; Let’s talk of other business, and forget it. What news now of the pirates? any stirring? Prithee discourse a little. _Moth._ (_Aside._) I am glad he ‘s here yet To see her tricks himself; I had lied monst’rously If I had told ’em first. _Lean._ Speak, what ‘s the humour, sweet, You make your lips so strange? This was not wont. _Bian._ Is there no kindness betwixt man and wife, Unless they make a pigeon-house of friendship, And be still billing? ’tis the idlest fondness That ever was invented; and ’tis pity It ‘s grown a fashion for poor gentlewomen; There ‘s many a disease kiss’d in a year by ‘t, And a French court’sy made to’t: Alas, sir, Think of the world, how we shall live, grow serious; We have been married a whole fortnight now. _Lean._ How? a whole fortnight! why, is that so long? _Bian._ ’Tis time to leave off dalliance; ’tis a doctrine Of your own teaching, if you be remember’d, And I was bound to obey it. _Moth._ (_Aside._) Here’s one fits him; This was well catch’d i’ faith, son, like a fellow That rids another country of a plague, And brings it home with him to his own house. [_A Messenger from the Duke knocks within._ Who knocks? _Lean._ Who’s there now? Withdraw you, Bianca; Thou art a gem no stranger’s eye must see, Howe’er thou ‘rt pleas’d now to look dull on me. [_Exit Bianca._