_Beau._ One stampe more would do well: yet I desire not You should grow horne-mad, till you haue a wife. You are come to warme meate, and perhaps cleane linnen: Feed, weare it, and bee thankefull. For me, know, 195 That though a thousand watches were set on mee, And you the Master-spy, I yet would vse, The liberty that best likes mee. I will reuell, Feast, kisse, imbreace, perhaps grant larger fauours: Yet such as liue vpon my meanes, shall know 200 They must not murmur at it. If my Lord Bee now growne yellow, and has chose out you To serue his Iealouzy that way, tell him this, You haue something to informe him: _Exit Beau._ _Rom._ And I will. Beleeue it wicked one I will. Heare, Heauen, 205 But hearing pardon mee: if these fruts grow Vpon the tree of marriage, let me shun it, As a forbidden sweete. An heyre and rich, Young, beautifull, yet adde to this a wife, And I will rather choose a Spittle sinner 210 Carted an age before, though three parts rotten, And take it for a blessing, rather then Be fettered to the hellish slauery Of such an impudence. _Enter Baumont with writings._ _Bau._ Collonell, good fortune To meet you thus: you looke sad, but Ile tell you 215 Something that shall remoue it. Oh how happy Is my Lord _Charaloys_ in his faire bride! _Rom._ A happy man indeede!--pray you in what? _Bau._ I dare sweare, you would thinke so good a Lady, A dower sufficient. _Rom._ No doubt. But on. 220 _Bau._ So faire, so chaste, so vertuous: so indeed All that is excellent. _Rom._ Women haue no cunning To gull the world. _Bau._ Yet to all these, my Lord Her father giues the full addition of All he does now possesse in _Burgundy_: 225 These writings to confirme it, are new seal’d And I most fortunate to present him with them, I must goe seeke him out, can you direct mee? _Rom._ You’l finde him breaking a young horse. _Bau._ I thanke you. _Exit Baumont._ _Rom._ I must do something worthy _Charaloys_ friendship. 230 If she were well inclin’d to keepe her so, Deseru’d not thankes: and yet to stay a woman Spur’d headlong by hot lust, to her owne ruine, Is harder then to prop a falling towre With a deceiuing reed. _Enter Rochfort._ _Roch._ Some one seeke for me, 235 As soone as he returnes. _Rom._ Her father! ha? How if I breake this to him? sure it cannot Meete with an ill construction. His wisedome Made powerfull by the authority of a father, Will warrant and giue priuiledge to his counsailes. 240 It shall be so--my Lord.