Ori. So she shall, ladies:
Come, pray you come up.

Ros. Oh me!

Lil. Hang me, if I knew her!
Were I a man myself, I should now love you;
Nay, I should dote.

Ros. I dare not trust mine eyes;
For, as I live, you are the strangest alter’d—
I must come up to know the truth.

Serv. So must I, lady;
For I’m a kind of unbeliever too.

Lil. Get you gone, sirrah;
And what you have seen be secret in; you are paid else!
No more of your long tongue.

Fac. Will ye go in, ladies,
And talk with her? These ventures will come straight.
Away with this fellow.

Lil. There, sirrah; go, disport you.

Serv. I would the trunk-hosed woman would go with me.

[Exit.

SCENE V.—The Street before the same House.

Enter Mirabel, Pinac, and Belleur.

Pinac. Is she so glorious handsome?

Mir. You would wonder;
Our women look like gipsies, like Gills to her;
Their clothes and fashions beggerly, and bankrupt,
Base, old, and scurvy.

Bel. How looks her face?

Mir. Most heavenly;
And the becoming motion of her body
So sets her off!

Bel. Why, then we shall stay.

Mir. Pardon me,
That’s more than I know; if she be that woman
She appears to be—

Bel. As ’tis impossible.

Mir. I shall then tell you more.

Pinac. Did you speak to her?

Mir. No, no, I only saw her, she was busy:
Now I go for that end; and mark her, gentlemen,
If she appear not to you one of the sweetest,
The handsomest, the fairest, in behaviour—
We shall meet the two wenches there too; they come to visit her,
To wonder, as we do.

Pinac. Then we shall meet ’em.

Bel. I had rather meet two bears.

Mir. There you may take your leaves, dispatch that business,
And, as ye find their humours—

Pinac. Is your love there too?

Mir. No, certain; she has no great heart to set out again.
This is the house; I’ll usher you.