_Lady_. I joy to hear you are wise, 'tis a rare Jewel In an Elder Brother: pray be wiser yet. _Elder Lo._ Me thinks I am very wise: I do not come a wooing. Indeed I'le move no more love to your Ladiship. _Lady_. What makes you here then? _Elder Lo_. Only to see you and be merry Ladie: that's all my business. Faith let's be very merry. Where's little _Roger_? he's a good fellow: an hour or two well spent in wholesome mirth, is worth a thousand of these puling passions. 'Tis an ill world for Lovers. _Lady_. They were never fewer. _Elder Lo_. I thank God there's one less for me Ladie. _Lady_. You were never any Sir. _Elder Lo_. Till now, and now I am the prettiest fellow. _Lady_. You talk like a Tailor Sir. _Elder Lo_. Me thinks your faces are no such fine things now. _Lady_. Why did you tell me you were wise? Lord what a lying age is this, where will you mend these faces? _Elder Lo_. A Hogs face soust is worth a hundred of 'em. _Lady_. Sure you had a Sow to your Mother. _Elder Lo_. She brought such fine white Pigs as you, fit for none but Parsons Ladie. _Lady_. 'Tis well you will allow us our Clergie yet. _Elder Lo_. That shall not save you. O that I were in love again with a wish. _Lady_. By this light you are a scurvie fellow, pray be gone. _Elder Lo_. You know I am a clean skin'd man. _Lady_. Do I know it? _Elder Lo_. Come, come, you would know it; that's as good: but not a snap, never long for't, not a snap dear Ladie. _Lady_. Hark ye Sir, hark ye, get ye to the Suburbs, there's horse flesh for such hounds: will you goe Sir? _Elder Lo_. Lord how I lov'd this woman, how I worshipt this prettie calf with the white face here: as I live, you were the prettiest fool to play withall, the wittiest little varlet, it would talk: Lord how it talk't! and when I angred it, it would cry out, and scratch, and eat no meat, and it would say, goe hang. _Lady_. It will say so still, if you anger it. _Elder Lo_. And when I askt it, if it would be married, it sent me of an errand into _France_, and would abuse me, and be glad it did so. _Lady_. Sir this is most unmanly, pray by gon. _Elder Lo_. And swear (even when it twitter'd to be at me) I was unhansome. _Lady_. Have you no manners in you? _Elder Lo_. And say my back was melted, when God he knows, I kept it at a charge: Four _Flaunders_ Mares would have been easier to me, and a Fencer. _Lady_. You think all this is true now? _Elder Lo_. Faith whether it be or no, 'tis too good for you. But so much for our mirth: Now have at you in earnest. _L[a]_. There is enough Sir, I desire no more. _El. Lo_. Yes faith, wee'l have a cast at your best parts now. And then the Devil take the worst. _Lady_. Pray Sir no more, I am not so much affected with your commendations, 'tis almost dinner, I know they stay for you at the Ordinary.