This is the day my daughter _Angellina_, The happy, that must make you a fortune, A large and full one, my great care has wrought it, And yours must be as great to entertaine it; Young _Eustace_ is a Gentleman at all points, And his behaviour affable and courtly, His person excellent, I know you find that, I read it in your eyes, you like his youth, Young handsome people should be match'd together, Then followes handsome Ch[i]ldren, handsome fortunes; The most part of his fathers state, my Wench, Is ti'd in a joynture, that makes up the harmony; And when y'are marryed. he's of that soft temper, And so far will be chain'd to your observance, That you may rule and turne him as you please. What are the writings drawn on our side, Sir? _Not_. They are, and here I have so fetter'd him, That if the Elder Brother set his hand to, Not all the power of law shall ere release him. _Lew_. These Notaries are notable confident Knaves, And able to doe more mischeife than an Army: Are all your clauses sure? _Not_. Sure as proportion, They may turne Rivers sooner than these writings. _Not_. Why did you not put all the lands in, Sir? _Lew_. Twas not condition'd. _Not_. If it had been found, It had been but a fault made in the writing; If not found all the Land. _Lew_. These are small Devils That care not who has misch[ie]fe, so they make it; They live upon the meere scent of dissension. Tis well, tis well, Are you contented Girle? For your wil must be known. _Ang_. A husband's welcom, And as an humble wife He entertaine him, No soveraignty I aime at, 'tis the mans Sir, For she that seekes it, killes her husbands Honour: The Gentleman I have scene, and well observ'd him, Yet find not that grac'd excellence you promise, A pretty Gentle man and he may please too, And some few flashes I have hear'd come from him, But not to admiration as to others; Hee's young and may be good, yet he must make it, And I may help, and help to thank him also. It is your pleasure I should make him mine, And't has beene still my duty to observe you. _Lew_. Why then let's go, And I shall love your modesty. To horse, and bring the Coach out _Angellina_, To morrow you will looke more womanly. _Ang_. So I looke honestly, I feare no eyes, Sir. _Exeunt._ _Actus III. Scaena II._ Brisac, Andrew, Cooke, Lilly. Wait on your Master, he shall have that befits him; _And_. No inheritance, Sir? _Bri_. You speak like a foole, a coxcomb, He shall have annual meanes to buy him bookes, And find him cloathes and meat, what would he more? Trouble him with Land? tis flat against his nature: I love him too, and honour those gifts in him.