SCENE I.
_The Market Place._
_Enter_ PLUME _and_ WORTHY.
_Wor._ I cannot forbear admiring the equality of our fortunes: we love two ladies, they meet us half way, and just as we were upon the point of leaping into their arms, fortune drops in their laps, pride possesses their hearts, a maggot fills their heads, madness takes them by the tails; they snort, kick up their heels, and away they run.
_Plume._ And leave us here to mourn upon the shore--a couple of poor melancholy monsters. What shall we do?
_Wor._ I have a trick for mine; the letter, you know, and the fortune-teller.
_Plume._ And I have a trick for mine.
_Wor._ What is't?
_Plume._ I'll never think of her again.
_Wor._ No!
_Plume._ No; I think myself above administering to the pride of any woman, were she worth twelve thousand a-year; and I ha'n't the vanity to believe I shall gain a lady worth twelve hundred. The generous, goodnatured Sylvia, in her smock, I admire; but the haughty and scornful Sylvia, with her fortune, I despise.--What! sneak out of town, and not so much as a word, a line, a compliment!--'Sdeath! how far off does she live? I'll go and break her windows.
_Wor._ Ha! ha! ha! ay, and the window-bars too, to come at her. Come, come, friend, no more of your rough military airs.
_Enter_ KITE.
_Kite._ Captain! captain! Sir, look yonder; she's a-coming this way. 'Tis the prettiest, cleanest, little tit!
_Plume._ Now, Worthy, to show you how much I'm in love--here she comes. But, Kite, what is that great country fellow with her?
_Kite._ I can't tell, sir.
_Enter_ ROSE, _followed by her Brother_ BULLOCK, _with Chickens on her Arm, in a Basket_.
_Rose._ Buy chickens, young and tender chickens, young and tender chickens.
_Plume._ Here, you chickens.
_Rose._ Who calls?
_Plume._ Come hither, pretty maid.
_Rose._ Will you please to buy, sir?
_Wor._ Yes, child, we'll both buy.
_Plume._ Nay, Worthy, that's not fair; market for yourself--Come, child, I'll buy all you have.
_Rose._ Then all I have is at your service. [_Courtesies._