_Mont._ I would it would, I am afraid my looseness Is yet scarce stopt, though it have nought to work on But the meer air of what I have had.
_Mont._ I wonder sweet heart why you'll marry me, I can see nothing in my self deserves it, Unless the handsome wearing of a band, For that's my stock now, or a pair of garters; Necessity will not let me loose.
_Char._ I see Sir, a great deal more, a handsome man, a Husband, To make a right good woman truly happy.
_Mont._ Lord, where are my eyes, either you are foolish As wenches once a year are, or far worse, Extreamly virtuous, can you love a poor man That relies on cold meat, and cast stockings, One only suit to his back, which now is mewing? But what will be the next coat will pose _Tristram_. If I should leavy from my friends a fortune: I could not raise ten groats to pay the Priest now.
_Char._ I'll do that duty; 'tis not means nor money Makes me pursue your love; were your mind bankrupt, I would never love you.
_Lam._ Nay, never shrink i'th' wetting, for my presence; D'ye find her willing _Montague_?
_Lam._ How dainty you make of it, do not I know You two love one another?
_Mont._ Certain Madam, I think ye'ave revelations of these matters: Your Ladyship cannot tell me when I kist her.
_Mont._ But she will not Madam; For when they talk once, 'tis like Fairy-Money, They get no more close kisses.
_Mont._ [God] knows I need not, yet I would be lusty: But ---- my Provender scarce pricks me.
_Lam._ It shall be mended _Montague_, I am glad you are grown so merry.
_Lam._ You two will make a pretty handsome Consort.
_Mont._ Yes Madam, if my Fiddle fail me not.
_Lam._ Your Fiddle? why your Fiddle? I warrant thou meanest madly:
_Mont._ Can you blame me? alas I am in love.
_Lam._ You are very quick, Sir: no, I mean thus pleasant.
_Lam._ A little wealth would change you then?
_Mont._ Yes Lady, into another suit, but never more Into another man: I'll bar that mainly, The wealth I get hence-forward shall be charm'd For ever hurting me, I'll spend it fasting: As I live noble Lady, there is nothing I have found directly, cures the melancholy, But want and wedlock; when I had store of money, I simper'd sometime, and spoke wondrous wise, But never laught out-right; now I am empty, My heart sounds like a Bell, and strikes at both sides.