SCENE II.

_Enter_ Clora, Frank, _and_ Frederick, _and Maid_.

_Fred._ Sister, I brought you _Jacomo_ to the door, He has forgot all that he said last night; And shame of that makes him [more] loth to come, I left _Fabricio_ perswading him, but 'tis in vain.

_Fran._ Alas, my fortune, _Clora_.

_Clor._ Now _Frank_, see what a kind of man you love, That loves you when he's drunk.

_Fran._ If so, 'Faith, I would marry him; my friends I hope Would make him drink.

_Clor._ 'Tis well consider'd, _Frank_, he has such pretty humours then, Besides, being a Souldier, 'tis better he should love You when he's drunk, than when he's sober, for then he Will be sure to love you the greatest part on's life.

_Fran._ And were not I a happy woman then?

_Clor._ That ever was born, _Frank_, i' faith--

_Fred._ How now, what says he?

_Enter_ Fabricio.

_Fab._ 'Faith, you may as well 'tice a Dog up with a Whip and Bell As him, by telling him of Love and Women, he swears They mock him.

_Fred._ Look how my Sister weeps.

_Fab._ Why, who can help it?

_Fred._ Yes, you may safely swear she loves him.

_Fab._ Why, so I did; and may do all the oaths, Arithmetick can make, e're he believe me; And since he was last drunk, he is more jealous They would abuse him; if we could perswade him She lov'd, he would embrace it.

_Fred._ She her self Shall bate so much of her own modesty To swear it to him, with such tears as now You see rain from her.

_Fab._ I believe 'twould work, But would you have her do't i'th' open street? Or if you would, he'll run away from her, How shall we get him hither?

_Fred._ By entreaty.

_Fab._ 'Tis most impossible, no, if we could Anger him hither, as there is no way But that to bring him, and then hold him fast, Women, and men, whilst she delivers to him the truth Seal'd with her tears, he would be plain As a pleas'd Child; he walks below for me Under the window.

_Clor._ We'll anger him I warrant ye, Let one of the maids take a good Bowl of water, Or say it be a piss-pot, and pour't on's head.

_Fab._ Content, hang me if I like not the cast of it rarely, for no question It is an approv'd Receipt to fetch such a fellow; Take all the women-kind in this house, betwixt the Age of one, And one hundred, and let them take unto them a pot or a Bowl containing seven quarts or upwards, and let them Never leave, till the above named Pot or Bowl become full, then let one of them stretch out Her Arm, and pour it on his head, and _probatum est,_ it Will fetch him, for in his anger he will run up, and then let Us alone.

_Clor._ Go you and do it. [_Exit Maid._

_Fran._ Good _Clora_, no.

_Clor._ Away I say, & do it, never fear, we have enough of that Water ready distill'd.

_Fran._ Why, this will make him mad, _Fabricio_, He'll neither love me drunk nor sober now.

_Fab._ I warrant you; what, is the wench come up?

_Enter Wench._

_Clor._ Art thou there, wench?

_Wench._ I.

_Fab._ Look out then if thou canst see him.

_Wench._ Yes, I see him, and by my troth he stands so fair I could not Hold were he my Father, his hat's off too, and he's scratching His head.

_Fab._ O, wash that hand I prithee.

_Wench._ 'Send thee good luck, this the second time I have thrown thee Out to day, ha, ha, ha, just on's head.

_Fran._ Alas!

_Fab._ What does he now?

_Wench._ He gathers stones, God's light, he breaks all the Street windows.

_Jac._ Whores, Bawds, your windows, your windows.

_Wench._ Now he is breaking all the low windows with His Sword, Excellent sport, now he's beating a fellow that laugh'd at him, Truly the man takes it patiently; now he goes down the street Gravely, looking on each side, there's not one more dare laugh.

_Fran._ Does he go on?

_Wench._ Yes.

_Fran. Fabricio_, you have undone a Maid [Frank _kneels_. By treachery; know you some other better, You would prefer your friend to? if you do not Bring him again, I have no other hope, But you that made me lose hope, if you fail me, I ne'r shall see him, but shall languish out A discontented life, and dye contemn'd.

_Fab._ This vexes me, I pray you be more patient, [_Lifts her up._ If I have any truth, let what will happen, I'll bring him presently, do ye all stand At the Street door, the maids, and all, to watch When I come back, and have some private place To shuffle me into; for he shall follow In fury, but I know I can out-run him As he comes in, clap all fast hold on him; And use your own discretions.

_Fred._ We will do it.

_Fab._ But suddenly, for I will bring him hither With that unstopt speed, that he shall run over All that's in's way; and though my life be ventur'd 'Tis no great matter, I will do't.

_Fran._ I thank you, Worthy _Fabricio_. [_Exeunt._