_Fran_. Very good; did that grieve your heart? alas, what pity ‘twas I carried you not in my hand, presented you to him my self, and beg’d him to favour me so much to do my office a little for me, or the like; hah,-- _Jul_. And there’s need enough, and the truth were known. _Jac_. Well said, Madam. _Fran_. Peace, thou wicked Limb of _Satan_--but for you, Gentlewoman, since you are so tarmagant, that your own natural Husband cannot please you, who, though I say it, am as quiet a Bed-fellow, and sleep as sweetly, for one of my years, as any in _Spain_--I’ll keep you to hard meat, i’faith. _Jul_. I find no fault with your sleeping, ‘tis the best quality you have a-bed. _Fran_. Why so then, is the Devil in an unmerciful Woman? Come, come, ’.is a good Tenant that pays once a quarter. _Jac_. Of an hour do you mean, Sir?-- _Fran_. Peace, I say--thou damnable Tormentor, this is the Doctrine you preach to your Mistress, but you shall do’t it private, for I’m resolv’d to lock ye both up, and carry the Keys in my Pocket. _Jul_. Well, I am a wicked Creature to teaze thee so, Dear; but I’ll do what thou wilt; come, come, be friends, I vow, I care not for the Governor, not I, no more than I do for my--own Soul. _Fran_. Why so, this is something; Come, come your ways in,--who have we here? a Man! ad’s my life, away, away. _Jul_. Yes, up to my Chamber, to write an answer to this dear Letter. [_Ex_ Julia. _Enter_ Isabella. _Fran_. No, ‘tis not a Man, but my Daughter _Isabella_. _Jac_. Now will I stay, and set her on to teaze the Dotard: wou’d I could teaze him to Death, that my Mistress might be rid of him. _Fran_. How now, what makes you look so scurvily to day? Sure the Devil rides once a day through a Woman, that she may be sure to be inspired with some ill Qualities--what wou’d you have now? _Isa_. Something. _Fran_. Something? what thing? have I not provided you a Husband whom you are to marry within a day or two. _Isa_. There’s a Husband indeed, pray keep him to your self, if you please; I’ll marry none of him, I’ll see him hanged first. _Fran_. Hey day;--what, is he not young and handsome enough, forsooth? _Isa_. Young and handsome; is there no more than that goes to the making up of a Husband--Yes, there’s Quality. _Fran_. Quality!--Why, is he not one of the richest Merchants of his standing in all _Cadiz_. _Isa_. Merchant! a pretty Character! a Woman of my Beauty, and five Thousand Pound, marry a Merchant--a little, petty, dirty-heel’d Merchant; faugh, I’d rather live a Maid all the days of my life, or be sent to a Nunnery, and that’s Plague enough I’m sure. _Jac_. Have a care of a Nunnery, lest he take you at your word. _Isa_. I would not for the world; no, _Jacinta_, when ever thou seest me in holy Orders, the World will be at an end. _Fran_. Merchant! why, what Husband do you expect? _Isa_. A Cavalier at least, if not a Nobleman.