TAY. Can he manage? FIT. Pleaſe you to try him, _Ladies_. Stand forth, _Diuell_. PVG. Was all this but the preface to my torment? 195 FIT. Come, let their _Ladiſhips_ ſee your honours. EIT. O, Hee makes a wicked leg. TAY. As euer I ſaw! WIT. Fit for a _Diuell_. TAY. Good _Madame_, call him _De-uile_. WIT. _De-uile_, what property is there moſt required I’ your conceit, now, in the _Eſcudero_? 200 _They begin their_ Catechiſme. FIT. Why doe you not speake? PVG. A ſetled diſcreet paſe, _Madame_. WIT. I thinke, a barren head, Sir, Mountaine-like, To be expos’d to the cruelty of weathers-- FIT. I, for his Valley is beneath the waſte, _Madame_, And to be fruitfull there, it is ſufficient. 205 Dulneſſe vpon you! Could not you hit this? PVG. Good Sir-- _He ſtrikes him._ WIT. He then had had no barren head. You daw him too much, in troth, Sir. FIT. I muſt walke With the _French_ ſticke, like an old vierger for you. PVG. O, _Chiefe_, call mee to _Hell_ againe, and free mee. 210 _The_ Diuell _prayes_. FIT. Do you murmur now? PVG. Not I, S^r. WIT. What do you take [152] M^r. _Deuile_, the height of your employment, In the true perfect _Eſcudero_? FIT. When? What doe you anſwer? PVG. To be able, _Madame_, Firſt to enquire, then report the working, 215 Of any _Ladies_ phyſicke, in ſweete phraſe. WIT. Yes, that’s an act of elegance, and importance. But what aboue? FIT. O, that I had a goad for him. PVG. To find out a good _Corne-cutter_. TAY. Out on him! EIT. Moſt barbarous! FIT. Why did you doe this, now? 220 Of purpoſe to diſcredit me? you damn’d _Diuell_. PVG. Sure, if I be not yet, I ſhall be. All My daies in _Hell_, were holy-daies to this! TAY. ’Tis labour loſt, _Madame_? EIT. H’is a dull fellow Of no capacity! TAI. Of no diſcourſe! 225 O, if my _Ambler_ had beene here! EIT. I, _Madame_; You talke of a man, where is there ſuch another? WIT. M^r. _Deuile_, put caſe, one of my _Ladies_, heere, Had a fine brach: and would imploy you forth To treate ’bout a conuenient match for her. 230 What would you obſerue? PVG. The color, and the ſize, _Madame_. WIT. And nothing elſe? FIT. The Moon, you calfe, the Moone! WIT. I, and the Signe. TAI. Yes, and receits for proneneſſe.