Take me quickly, while I am in this vein, away with me, for if I have but two hours to consider, all the widows in the world cannot recover me. _Wid._ If you will, go with me Sir. _Val._ Yes marrie will I, but 'tis in anger yet, and I will marrie thee, do not cross me; yes, and I will lie with thee, and get a whole bundle of babies, and I will kiss thee, stand still and kiss me handsomely, but do not provoke me, stir neither hand nor foot, for I am dangerous, I drunk sack yesternight, do not allure me: Thou art no widow of this world, come in pitie, and in spite I'le marrie thee, not a word more, and I may be brought to love thee. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Merchant, _and_ Uncle, _at several doors_. _Mer._ Well met again, and what good news yet? _Unc._ Faith nothing. _Mer._ No fruits of what we sowed? _Unc._ Nothing I hear of. _Mer._ No turning in this tide yet? _Unc._ 'Tis all flood, and till that fall away, there's no expecting. _Enter_ Fran. Isab. Lance, Shorthose, _a torch_. _Mer._ Is not this his younger Brother? _Unc._ With a Gentlewoman the widow's sister, as I live he smiles, he has got good hold, why well said _Frank_ i'faith, let's stay and mark. _Isab._ Well, you are the prettiest youth, and so you have handled me, think you ha' me sure. _Fran._ As sure as wedlock. _Isab._ You had best lie with me too. _Fran._ Yes indeed will I, and get such black ey'd boyes. _Unc._ God a Mercy, _Frank_. _Isab._ This is a merrie world, poor simple Gentlewomen that think no harm, cannot walk about their business, but they must be catcht up I know not how. _Fran._ I'le tell you, and I'le instruct ye too, have I caught you, Mistress? _Isab._ Well, and it were not for pure pity, I would give you the slip yet, but being as it is. _Fran._ It shall be better. _Enter_ Valentine, Widow, _and_ Ralph, _with a torch_. _Isab._ My sister, as I live, your Brother with her! sure, I think you are the Kings takers. _Unc._ Now it works. _Val._ Nay, you shall know I am a man. _Wid._ I think so. _Val._ And such proof you shall have. _Wid._ I pray speak softly. _Val._ I'le speak it out Widow, yes and you shall confess too, I am no Nurse-child, I went for a man, a good one, if you can beat me out o'th' pit. _Wid._ I did but jest with you. _Val._ I'le handle you in earnest, and so handle you: Nay, when my credit calls. _Wid._ Are you mad? _Val._ I am mad, I am mad. _Fran._ Good morrow, Sir, I like your preparation. _Val._ Thou hast been at it, _Frank_. _Fran._ Yes faith, 'tis done Sir. _Val._ Along with me then, never hang an arse, widow. _Isab._ 'Tis to no purpose, sister. _Val._ Well said Black-brows, advance your torches Gentlemen. _Unc._ Yes, yes Sir. _Val._ And keep your ranks. _Mer._ _Lance_, carrie this before him. _Unc._ Carrie it in state. _Enter_ Musicians, Fount. Hare. Bel. _Val._ What are you, Musicians? I know your coming, and what are those behind you? _Musi._ Gentlemen that sent us to give the Lady a good morrow.