Mir. Why stand’st thou here then,
Sneaking, and peaking, as thou wouldst steal linen?
Hast thou not place and time?

Bel. I had a rare speech
Studied, and almost ready; and your violence
Has beat it out of my brains.

Mir. Hang your rare speeches!
Go me on like a man.

Bel. Let me set my beard up.
How has Pinac perform’d?

Mir. He has won already:
He stands not thrumming of caps thus.

Bel. Lord, what should I ail!
What a cold I have over my stomach; ’would I had some hum!
Certain I have a great mind to be at her,
A mighty mind.

Mir. On, fool!

Bel. Good words, I beseech you;
For I will not be abused by both.

Mir. Adieu, then
(I will not trouble you; I see you are valiant),
And work your own way.

Bel. Hist, hist! I will be ruled;
I will, i’ faith; I will go presently:
Will you forsake me now, and leave me i’ th’ suds?
You know, I am false-hearted this way; I beseech you,
Good sweet Mirabel (I’ll cut your throat if you leave me,
Indeed I will!) sweet-heart!

Mir. I will be ready,
Still at thine elbow; take a man’s heart to thee,
And speak thy mind; the plainer still the better.
She is a woman of that free behaviour,
Indeed, that common courtesy, she cannot deny thee:
Go bravely on.

Bel. Madam—keep close about me.
Still at my back.—Madam, sweet madam—

Ros. Ha!
What noise is that? what saucy sound to trouble me?

Mir. What said she?

Bel. I am saucy.

Mir. ’Tis the better.

Bel. She comes; must I be saucy still?

Mir. More saucy.

Ros. Still troubled with these vanities? Heaven bless us!
What are we born to?—Would you speak with any of my people?
Go in, sir; I am busy.

Bel. This is not she, sure:
Is this two children at a birth? I’ll be hang’d then
Mine was a merry gentlewoman, talk’d daintily,
Talk’d of those matters that befitted women;
This is a parcel-prayer-book; I’m served sweetly!
And now I am to look too; I was prepared for th’ other way.

Ros. Do you know that man?

Ori. Sure, I have seen him, lady.

Ros. Methinks ’tis pity such a lusty fellow
Should wander up and down, and want employment.