_Lam._ You are finely temper'd, _Montague_.
_Mont._ Pardon Lady, if any way my free mirth have offended, 'Twas meant to please you: if it prove too saucy, Give it a frown, and I am ever silenc'd.
_Lam._ I like it passing well; pray follow it: This is my day of choice, and shall be yours too, 'Twere pity to delay ye: call to the Steward, And tell him 'tis my pleasure he should give you Five hundred Crowns: make your self handsome _Montague_, Let none wear better cloaths, 'tis for my credit; But pray be merry still.
_Mont._ If I be not, and make a fool of twice as many hundreds, Clap me in Canvas, Lady. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ La-poop, Laverdine, _and_ Malycorne.
_Lav._ I am strangely glad, I have found the mystery Of this disguised boy out: I ever trusted It was a woman; and how happily I have found it so; and for my self, I am sure, One that would offer me a thousand pound now (And that's a pretty sum to make one stagger) In ready Gold for this concealment, could not Buy my hope of her, she's a dainty wench, And such a one I find I want extreamly, To bring me into credit: beauty does it.
_Mal._ Say we should all meach here, and stay the Feast, now, what can the worst be? we have plaid the knaves, that's without question.
_La-p._ True, and as I take it, this is the first truth We told these ten years, and for any thing I know, may be the last: but grant we are knaves, Both base and beastly knaves--
_La-p._ And likewise let it be considered, we have wrong'd, And most maliciously, this Gentlewoman We cast to stay with, what must we expect now?
_Mal._ I, there's the point, we would expect good eating.
_La-p._ I know we would, but we may find good beating.
_Lav._ You say true Gentlemen, and by---- Though I love meat as well as any man, I care not what he be, if a eat a Gods name; Such a crab-sauce to my meat will turn my pallate.
_Mal._ There's all the hazard, for the frozen _Montague_ Has now got spring again, and warmth in him, And without doubt, dares beat us terribly. For not to mint the matter, we are cowards, And have, and shall be beaten, when men please To call us into cudgeling.
_La-p._ I feel we are very prone that way.
_La-p._ Now, here then rests the state o'th' question; Whether we yield our bodies for a dinner To a sound dog-whip, for I promise ye, If men be given to correction, We can expect no less; or quietly Take a hard Egg or two, and ten mile hence Bait in a ditch, this we may do securely; For, to stay hereabout will be all one, If once our moral mischiefs come in memory.