_Val._ Not half so killing as for you, for me she cannot with all the Art she has, make me more miserable, or much more fortunate, I have no state left, a benefit that none of you can brag of, and there's the Antidote against a Widow, nothing to lose, but that my soul inherits, which she can neither law nor claw away; to that, but little flesh, it were too much else; and that unwholsom too, it were too rich else; and to all this contempt of what she do's I can laugh at her tears, neglect her angers, hear her without a faith, so pity her as if she were a Traytour, moan her person, but deadly hate her pride; if you could do these, and had but this discretion, and like fortune, it were but an equal venture. _Fount._ This is malice. _Val._ When she lies with your land, and not with you, grows great with joyntures, and is brought to bed with all the state you have, you'le find this certain; but is it come to pass you must marry, is there no buff will hold you? _Bel._ Grant it be so. _Val._ Then chuse the tamer evil, take a maid, a maid not worth a penny; make her yours, knead her, and mould her yours, a maid worth nothing, there's a vertuous spell in that word nothing; a maid makes conscience of half a Crown a week for pins and puppits, a maid will be content with one Coach and two Horses, not falling out because they are not matches; with one man satisfied, with one rein guided, with one faith, one content, one bed, aged she makes the wise, preserves the fame and issue; a widow is a Christmas-box that sweeps all. _Fount._ Yet all this cannot sink us. _Val._ You are my friends, and all my loving friends, I spend your mony, yet I deserve it too, you are my friends still, I ride your horses, when I want I sell 'em; I eat your meat, help to wear her linnen, sometimes I make you drunk, and then you seal, for which I'le do you this commodity, be ruled, and let me try her, I will discover her, the truth is, I will never leave to trouble her, till I see through her, then if I find her worthy. _Hare._ This was our meaning _Valentine_. _Val._ 'Tis done then, I must want nothing. _Hare._ Nothing but the woman. _Val._ No jealousie; for when I marry, the Devil must be wiser than I take him; and the flesh foolisher: come let's to dinner, and when I am well whetted with wine, have at her. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Isabella, _and_ Luce. _Isab._ But art thou sure? _Luce._ No surer than I heard. _Hare._ That it was that flouting fellows Brother? _Luce._ Yes, _Shorthose_ told me so. _Hare._ He did searc[h] out the truth? _Luce._ It seems he did. _Har._ Prethee _Luce_ call him hither, if he be no worse, I never repent my pity, now sirra, what was he we sent you after, the Gentleman i'th' black? _Enter_ Shorthose. _Short._ I'th' torn black? _Isab._ Yes, the same Sir. _Short._ What would your Worship with him? _Isab._ Why, my Worship would know his name, and what he is. _Short._ 'Is nothing, he is a man, and yet he is no man.