Euph. ’Tis very likely; but there is a certain troublesome Fellow in love with me, that has made me vow whenever I marry to ask him leave. Hau. How, ask his leave? I scorn to ask any Body’s leave, I tell you that, tho ’twere my Mistress— 292 Euph. I cannot marry you then. Hau. How, not marry me? look here now: [Ready to cry. _Gload_, can’t you marry, and let no living Soul know it? Euph. Oh no, Sir, I love your Life better, which would be indanger’d. Hau. Why, what a cursed Custom you have in _Spain_, a Man can neither marry, nor console his Neighbour’s Wife without having his Throat cut. Why, what if he will not give you leave? Euph. Why, then you must fight him. Hau. How! fight him, I fight him! Glo. Why, yes, Sir, you know you can fight, you try’d but this very Morning— Hau. Softly, you damn’d Rogue, not a Word of my Prowess aloud. _Salerimente_, I shall be put to fight when I am sober, shall I, for your damn’d prating, ye Rascal? Euph. I am glad you have that good Quality. [_Olinda_ speaking to _Gload_, pushes him to speak. Glo. Ay, Madam—my Master—has many more: But if you please to tell him his Rival’s Name— Hau. I’ll have your Ears for this, Sirrah, the next time I’m soundly drunk, and you know that won’t be long. [Aside. Lord, Madam, my Man knows not what he says. Ye Rascal, say I have no Courage—or I will drink my self to the Miracle of Valour, and exercise it all on thee. Glo. I know what I do, Sir, you had Courage this Morning, is the Fit over? Hau. Have I not slept since, you Rogue, have I not? Glo. I have a trick to save your Honour, Sir, and therefore I will stand in’t you have Courage. Hau. A Pox of your Trick, the Rogue knows I dare not chastise him now, for fear they should think I have Valour. Glo. Madam, my Master’s modest, but tell him who ’tis he must fight with— Hau. Oh, for a Tun of Rhenish—that I might abundantly beat thee— 293 Euph. Your Rival’s Name’s _Alonzo_, Sir. Hau. Oh the Devil, a thundring Name too; but will this same—_Alonzo_ make no allowance for necessity?—I vow ’tis pure necessity in me to marry you: the old Men being agreed upon the Matter, I am but an Instrument—alas, not I, [Crys. A very Tool, as they say, so I am. Glo. Lord, Sir, why do you cry? I meant no harm. Hau. No harm, you Rascal—to say I am valiant. Glo. Why, yes, Sir, and if you would say so too, at worst ’twas but getting Don _Lovis_ to have fought for you; you know that’s a small courtesy to a Friend. Hau. Faith, now thou art in the right; he’ll do his Business for him, I’ll warrant him. [Wipes his Eyes. Nay then, Madam, I have Courage, and will to this Don—this _Alonzo_ you speak of; and if he do not resign you, and consign you too, I’ll make him; yes, make him, do ye see—If _Lovis_ should refuse me now— [Aside. Glo. Shaw, Sir, he makes nothing to kill a Man, ten or twenty.