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Updated: May 23, 2025


Gratulate her rest, Force an encomium on her huswifry For being up so early. Bunch, where is my nephew? Crac. I have bin here this halfe hower and could not get answere. Sir Geff, To what, good nephew? I was meditating a little seriously. Crac. Concerning this white earth. Sir Geff. Youde know the nature of it? If it be marle 'tis good to manure land; if clay, to make tobacco pipes. Crac.

Sir Geff. Combe with more circumspection, knave; these perfumes Have a dull odor; there is meale among them, My Mrs. will not scent them. Crac. Uncle, my friend, My martiall fellow is deficient In this ubiquitarie mettall, silver: You must impart. Sir Geff.

I can hold no longer; I shall rise in wroth against him. Crac. Dee heare, Uncle? you must furnish him; he wilbe irefull presently, and then a whole bagg will not satisfie him; heele eate your gold in anger and drinke silver in great sack glasses. Sir Geff. Pox o'this Congee; 't shalbe thus, no thus; That writhing of my body does become me Infinitly.

Enter Sir Geffry and Lady. Sir Geff. But I beseech you, Madam; what greater accession can you wish then me for husband? I have it here thats sattisfaction for the lustiest widdow twixt this and London. Say, will you love me? Ime in hast and hate demurrs; if you refuse I must seeke out: I have a little moysture and would be loth to hav't dride for want of exercise. What say you, lady? Lady.

My daughters wills are not in my command: If you can purchase either of their hearts, My free consent shall follow. Sir Geff. Nay, then, they will fall out for me, Madam, I am most fortunate in atcheiving virgins. Enter Bonville. Save you, sweet youth, the bewties of your Mrs. Crowne your desires. Are you a suiter? Bon. Madam, I have occasions of importance Wishes a little privacy with you. Lady.

I do protest unto you, beauteous Lady, You do not cast a favorable aspect. Bel. I am no Plannet. Crac. Captaine, you doe me palpable affront: She is the election of my understanding. Sir Geff. Retort not so abstrusly. Cla. Hey day, where did you borrow this? Crac. Baffeld before my Mrs? Death to fame! Captaine, good Captaine. Suc.

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