Feth. Prithee, _Ned_, there’s Reason in all things— Blunt. But villainous Woman—’Dshartlikins, stand your Ground, or I’ll nail you to’t: Why, what a Pox are you so quezy stomach’d, a Monster won’t down with you, with a hundred thousand Pound to boot. [Pulling him. Feth. Nay, _Ned_, that mollifies something; and I scorn it should be said of _Nich. Fetherfool_ that he left his Friend 155 in danger, or did an ill thing: therefore, as thou say’st, _Ned_, tho she were a Centaur, I’ll not budg an Inch. Blunt. Why God a Mercy. Enter the _Giant_ and _Dwarf_, with them _Shift_ as an Operator, and _Harlequin_ attending. Feth. Oh—they come—Prithee, _Ned_, advance— [Puts him forward. Shift. Most beautiful Ladies. Feth. Why, what a flattering Son of a Whore’s this? Shift. These are the illustrious Persons your Uncle designs your humble Servants, and who have so extraordinary a Passion for your Seignioraships. Feth. Oh yes, a most damnable one: Wou’d I were cleanlily off the Lay, and had my Money again. Blunt. Think of a Million, Rogue, and do not hang an Arse thus. Giant. What, does the Cavalier think I’ll devour him? [To _Shift_. Feth. Something inclin’d to such a Fear. Blunt. Go and salute her, or, Adsheartlikins, I’ll leave you to her Mercy. Feth. Oh, dear _Ned_, have pity on me—but as for saluting her, you speak of more than may be done, dear Heart, without a Scaling Ladder. [Exit _Shift_. Dwarf. Sure, Seignior _Harlequin,_ these Gentlemen are dumb. Blunt. No, my little diminutive Mistress, my small Epitomy of Woman-kind, we can prattle when our Hands are in, but we are raw and bashful, young Beginners; for this is the first time we ever were in love: we are something aukard, or so, but we shall come on in time, and mend upon Incouragement. Feth. Pox on him, what a delicate Speech has he made now—’Gad, I’d give a thousand Pounds a Year for _Ned’s_ concise Wit, but not a Groat for his Judgment in Womankind. 156 Enter Shift with a Ladder, sets it against the Giant, and bows to _Fetherfool_. Shift. Here, Seignior, Don, approach, mount, and salute the Lady. Feth. Mount! why,’twould turn my Brains to look down from her Shoulders—But hang’t, ’Gad, I will be brave and venture. [Runs up the Ladder, salutes her, and runs down again. And Egad this was an Adventure and a bold one—but since I am come off with a whole Skin, I am flesht for the next onset—Madam—has your Greatness any mind to marry? [Goes to her, speaks, and runs back; Blunt claps him on the Back. Giant. What if I have? Feth. Why then, Madam, without inchanted Sword or Buckler, I’m your Man. Giant. My Man? my Mouse. I’ll marry none whose Person and Courage shall not bear some Proportion to mine. Feth. Your Mightiness I fear will die a Maid then. Giant. I doubt you’ll scarce secure me from that Fear, who court my Fortune, not my Beauty.