SCENE II.
Enter Claudia, and Marcellina.
Claud.
Sirrah, what ails my Lady that of late
She never cares for Company?
Mar.
I know not,
Unless it be that Company causes Cuckolds.
Claud.
That were a childish fear.
Mar.
What were those Ladies,
Came to her lately
From the Court?
Claud.
The same wench,
Some grave instructors on my life, they look
For all the world like old hatcht hilts.
Mar.
'Tis true, Wench,
For here and there, and yet they painted well too,
One might discover where the Gold was worn,
Their iron ages.
Claud.
If my judgement fail not,
They have been sheathed like rotten Ships.
Mar.
It may be.
Claud.
For if you mark their rudders, they hang wealth.
Mar.
They have past the line belike; wouldst live Clau••s
Till thou wert such as they are?
Claud.
Chimney pieces:
Now heaven have mercy upon me, and young men,
I had rather make a drollery till thirty,
While I am able to endure a tempest,
And hear my fights out bravely, till my tackle
Whilstl'd i'th' Wind, and held against all weathers,
While I were able to bear with my tyres,
And so discharge 'em, I would willingly
Live, Marcellina, not till barnacles
Bred in my sides.
Mar.
Thou art i'th' right, Wench;
For who would live whom pleasures had forsaken,
To stand at mark, and cry a Bow short, Seigneur?
Were there not men came hither too?
Claud.
Brave fellows:
I fear me Bawds of five i'th' Pound.
Mar.
How know you?
Claud.
They gave me great lights to it.
Mar.
Take heed, Claudia.
Clau.
Let them take heed, the spring comes on.
Mar.
To me now
They seem'd as noble Visitants.
Claud.
To me now
Nothing less, Marcellina, for I markt 'em,
And by this honest light, for yet 'tis morning,
Saving the reverence of their gilded doublets,
And Millan skins.
Mar.
Thou art a strange Wench, Claudia.
Claud.
Ye are deceiv'd, they shew'd to me directly
Court Crabs that creep a side-way for their living,
I know 'em by the Breeches that they beg'd last.
Mar.
Peace, my Lady comes; what may that be?