_Cla._ 'Tis a beauteous Creature, And to my self, I do appear deform'd, When I consider her, and yet she is The strangers sister; Why then should I fear? She cannot prove my rival.
_Ros._ When you repent, That you refus'd my counsel, may it add To your afflictions, that you were forward; Yet leap'd into the Gulfe of your misfortunes, But have your wishes.
_Amin._ I am instructed, but take heed _Albert_, You prove not false.
_Alb._ Ye are your own assurance, And so acquainted with your own perfections, That weak doubts cannot reach you; therefore fear not.
_Ros._ That you are poor and miserable men, My eyes inform me: that without our succors, Hope cannot flatter you to dream of safety; The present plight you are in, can resolve you That to be merciful, is to draw near The Heavenly essence: whether you will be Thankful, I do not question; nor demand What country bred you, what names, what maners; To us it is sufficient we relieve Such as have shapes of men: and I command you, As we are not ambitious to know Farther of you, that on pain of death You presume not to enquire what we are, Or whence deriv'd.
_Alb._ In all things we obey you, And thankfully we ever shall confess Our selves your creatures.
_Ros._ You speak as becomes you; First then, and willingly, deliver up Those weapons we could force from you.
_Alb._ We lay 'em down Most gladly at your feet.
_Tib._ I have had many a combat with a tall wench; But never was disarm'd before.
_Ros._ And now hear comfort, Your wants shall be supply'd, and though it be A debt women may challenge to be sued to, Especially from such they may command; We give up to you that power, and therefore Freely each make his choice.
_Mor._ Nay, she is mine: I eyed her first.
_Tib._ Stay good rascals; You are too forward, sir Gallant, You are not giving order to a Taylor For the fashion of a new suit; Nor are you in your warehouse, master Merchant, Stand back, and give your betters leave: your betters; And grumble not: if ye do, as I love meat I will so swinge the salt itch out on you. Captain, Master, and the rest of us, That are brothers, and good fellows: we have been Too late by the ears: and yet smart for our follies; To end therefore all future emulation: if you please, To trust to my election, you shall say, I am not partial to my self; I doubt not Give content to all.