(As you muſt looke for theſe) or ſay, he raile; What ere his arts be, wife, I will haue thee Delude ’hem with a trick, thy obſtinate ſilence; I know aduantages; and I loue to hit 55 Theſe pragmaticke young men, at their owne weapons. Is your watch ready? Here my ſaile beares, for you: Tack toward him, ſweet _Pinnace_, where’s your watch? _He diſpoſes his wife to his place, and ſets his watch._ WIT. I’le ſet it. Sir, with yours. M^rs. FI. I muſt obey. MAN. Her modeſty ſeemes to ſuffer with her beauty, 60 And ſo, as if his folly were away, It were worth pitty. FIT. Now, th’are right, beginne, Sir. But firſt, let me repeat the contract, briefely. _Hee repeats his contract againe._ I am, Sir, to inioy this cloake, I ſtand in, Freely, and as your gift; vpon condition 65 You may as freely, ſpeake here to my ſpouſe, Your quarter of an houre alwaies keeping The meaſur’d diſtance of your yard, or more, From my ſaid Spouſe: and in my ſight and hearing. This is your couenant? WIT. Yes, but you’ll allow 70 For this time ſpent, now? FIT. Set ’hem ſo much backe. WIT. I thinke, I ſhall not need it. FIT. Well, begin, Sir, There is your bound, Sir. Not beyond that ruſh. WIT. If you interrupt me, Sir, I ſhall diſcloake you. Wittipol _beginnes_. The time I haue purchaſt, Lady, is but ſhort; 75 And, therefore, if I imploy it thriftily, I hope I ſtand the neerer to my pardon. I am not here, to tell you, you are faire, Or louely, or how well you dreſſe you, Lady, I’ll ſaue my ſelfe that eloquence of your glaſſe, 80 Which can ſpeake these things better to you then I. And ’tis a knowledge, wherein fooles may be As wiſe as a _Count Parliament_. Nor come I, With any preiudice, or doubt, that you [107] Should, to the notice of your owne worth, neede 85 Leaſt reuelation. Shee’s a ſimple woman, Know’s not her good: (who euer knowes her ill) And at all caracts. That you are the wife, To ſo much blaſted fleſh, as ſcarce hath ſoule, In ſtead of ſalt, to keepe it ſweete; I thinke, 90 Will aske no witneſſes, to proue. The cold Sheetes that you lie in, with the watching candle, That ſees, how dull to any thaw of beauty, Pieces, and quarters, halfe, and whole nights, ſometimes, The Diuell-giuen _Elfine_ Squire, your husband, 95 Doth leaue you, quitting heere his proper circle, For a much-worſe i’ the walks of _Lincolnes Inne_, Vnder the Elmes, t’expect the feind in vaine, there Will confeſſe for you.