_Ven._ Faith, bad enough in both, Were I in earnest, as I'll seem no less. [_Aside._ I wonder, lady, your own mother's words Cannot be taken, nor stand in full force. 'Tis honesty you urge; what's honesty? 'Tis but Heaven's beggar; and what woman is So foolish to keep honesty, And be not able to keep herself? No, Times are grown wiser, and will keep less charge. A maid that has small portion now intends To break up house, and live upon her friends; How blessed are you! you have happiness alone; Others must fall to thousands, you to one, Sufficient in himself to make your forehead Dazzle the world with jewels, and petitionary people Start at your presence. _Gra._ O, if I were young, I should be ravished. _Cas._ Ay, to lose your honour! _Ven._ 'Slid, how can you lose your honour To deal with my lord's grace? He'll add more honour to it by his title; Your mother will tell you how. _Gra._ That I will. _Ven._ O, think upon the pleasure of the palace! Secured ease and state! the stirring meats, Ready to move out of the dishes, that e'en now Quicken when they are eaten! Banquets abroad by torchlight! music! sports! Bareheaded vassals, that had ne'er the fortune To keep on their own hats, but let horns[204] wear 'em! Nine coaches waiting--hurry, hurry, hurry-- _Cas._ Ay, to the devil, _Ven._ Ay, to the devil! [_Aside._] To the duke, by my faith. _Gra._ Ay, to the duke: daughter, you'd scorn to think o' the devil, an you were there once. _Ven._ True, for most there are as proud as he for his heart, i' faith. [_Aside._ Who'd sit at home in a neglected room, Dealing her short-lived beauty to the pictures, That are as useless as old men, when those Poorer in face and fortune than herself Walk with a hundred acres on their backs,[205] Fair meadows cut into green foreparts? O, It was the greatest blessing ever happened to woman When farmers' sons agreed and met again, To wash their hands, and come up gentlemen! The commonwealth has flourished ever since: Lands that were mete[206] by the rod, that labour's spared: Tailors ride down, and measure 'em by the yard. Fair trees, those comely foretops of the field, Are cut to maintain head-tires--much untold. All thrives but chastity; she lies a-cold. Nay, shall I come nearer to you? mark but this: Why are there so few honest women, but because 'tis the poorer profession? that's accounted best that's best followed; least in trade, least in fashion; and that's not honesty, believe it; and do but note the love and dejected price of it-- Lose but a pearl, we search, and cannot brook it: But that[207] once gone, who is so mad to look it? _Gra._ Troth, he says true. _Cas._ False! I defy you both: I have endured you with an ear of fire; Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face. Mother, come from that poisonous woman there. _Gra._ Where?