SCENE III.

_Enter_ Constantia, _and Land-lady_.

_Const._ I have told ye all I can, and more than yet Those Gentlemen know of me; ever trusting Your Counsel and Concealment; for to me You seem a worthy Woman; one of those Are seldome found in our Sex, wise and vertuous, Direct me I beseech ye.

_Land._ Ye say well, Lady, And hold ye to that point, for in these businesses A Womans Counsel that conceives the matter, (Do ye mark me? that conceives the matter, Lady) Is worth ten mens engagements: She knows something, And out of that can work like Wax; when men Are giddy-headed, either out of Wine, Or a more Drunkenness, vain Ostentation, Discovering all; there is no more keep in 'em Than hold upon an Eeles tail; Nay, 'tis held fashion To defame now all they can.

_Const._ I, but these Gentlemen--

_Land._ Do not you trust to that; these Gentlemen Are as all Gentlemen of the same Barrel; I, and the self same pickle too. Be it granted, They have us'd ye with respect and fair behaviour, Ere since ye came, do you know what must follow? They are Spaniards, Lady, Gennets of high mettle, Things that will thrash the Devil, or his Dam, Let 'em appear but cloven.

_Const._ Now Heaven bless me.

_Land._ Mad Colts will court the wind; I know 'em, Lady, To the least hair they have; and I tell you, Old as I am, let but the pint pot bless 'em, They'll offer to my years--

_Const._ How?

_Land._ Such rude gambols--

_Const._ To you?

_Land._ I, and so handle me, that oft I am forc'd To fight of all four for my safety; there's the younger, _Don John_, the arrantest _Jack_ in all this City; The other, Time has blasted, yet he will stoop, If not o'rflown, and freely on the quarry; Has been a Dragon in his days. But _Tarmont_, _Don Jenkin_ is the Devil himself, the dog-days, The most incomprehensible Whore-master, Twenty a night is nothing; Beggars, Broom-women, And those so miserable, they look like famine, Are all sweet Ladies in his drink.

_Const._ He's a handsome Gentleman; Pity he should be master of such follies.

_Land._ He's ne'r without a noise of Sirynges In's Pocket, those proclaim him; birding Pills, Waters to cool his Conscience, in small Viols: With thousand such sufficient emblems; the truth is, Whose Chastity he chops upon he cares not, He flies at all; Bastards upon my conscience, He has now in making, multitudes; the last night He brought home one; I pity her that bore it, But we are all weak Vessels, some rich Woman (For wise I dare not call her) was the mother, For it was hung with Jewels; the bearing Cloath No less than Crimson Velvet.

_Const._ How?

_Land._ 'Tis true, Lady.

_Const._ Was it a Boy too?

_Land._ A brave Boy; deliberation And judgment shew'd in's getting, as I'll say for him, He's as well paced for that sport--

_Const._ May I see it? For there is a neighbour of mine, a Gentlewoman, Has had a late mischance, which willingly I would know further of; now if you please To be so courteous to me.

_Land._ Ye shall see it: But what do ye think of these men now ye know 'em, And of the cause I told ye of? Be wise, Ye may repent too late else; I but tell you For your own good, and as you will find it, Lady.

_Const._ I am advis'd.

_Land._ No more words then; do that, And instantly, I told ye of, be ready; _Don John_, I'll fit you for your frumps.

_Const._ I shall be: But shall I see this Child?

_Land._ Within this half hour, Let's in, and there think better; she that's wise, Leaps at occasion first; the rest pay for it. [_Exeunt._