_Scr._ Your worships deliver this as your deed? 180 _Ambo._ We do. _Ge._ So now, knight, farewell till I see thee. _Pe._ All farewell to my sweetheart! _Mist. T._ God-b'w'y', son knight. _Pe._ Farewell, my good mother. _Ge._ Farewell, Frank; I would fain take thee down if I could. _Qu._ I thank your good ladyship; farewell, Mistress Sindefy. [_Exeunt._ _Pe._ O tedious voyage, whereof there is no end! What will they think of me? 191 _Qu._ Think what they list. They longed for a vagary into the country, and now they are fitted. So a woman marry to ride in a coach, she cares not if she ride to her ruin. 'Tis the great end of many of their marriages. This is not the first time a lady has rid a false journey in her coach, I hope. _Pe._ Nay, 'tis no matter, I care little what they think; he that weighs men's thoughts has his hands full of nothing. A man, in the course of this world, should be like a surgeon's instrument--work in the wounds of others, and feel nothing himself. The sharper and subtler, the better. 203 _Qu._ As it falls out now, knight, you shall not need to devise excuses, or endure her outcries, when she returns; we shall now begone before, where they cannot reach us. _Pe._ Well, my kind compeer, you have now the assurance we both can make you; let me now entreat you, the money we agreed on may be brought to the Blue Anchor, near to Billingsgate, by six o'clock; where I and my chief friends, bound for this voyage, will with feasts attend you. 213 _Sec._ The money, my most honourable compeer, shall without fail observe your appointed hour. _Pe._ Thanks, my dear gossip. I must now impart To your approved love, a loving secret; As one on whom my life doth more rely In friendly trust than any man alive. Nor shall you be the chosen secretary 220 Of my affections for affection only: For I protest (if God bless my return) To make you partner in my actions' gain As deeply as if you had ventured with me Half my expenses. Know then, honest gossip, I have enjoy'd with such divine contentment A gentlewoman's bed whom you well know, That I shall ne'er enjoy this tedious voyage, Nor live the least part of the time it asketh, Without her presence; so I thirst and hunger 230 To taste the dear feast of her company. And if the hunger and the thirst you vow As my sworn gossip, to my wishèd good Be, as I know it is, unfeign'd and firm, Do me an easy favour in your power. _Sec._ Be sure, brave gossip, all that I can do, To my best nerve, is wholly at your service: Who is the woman, first, that is your friend?