'Fore God, you have a simple learned servant, lady, in titles.

CLE. I wonder that he is not called to the helm, and made a councillor!

DAU. He is one extraordinary.

CLE. Nay, but in ordinary! To say truth, the state wants such.

DAU. Why, that will follow.

CLE. I muse a mistress can be so silent to the dotes of such a servant.

DAW. 'Tis her virtue, sir. I have written somewhat of her silence too.

DAU. In verse, Sir John?

CLE. What else?

DAU. Why? How can you justify your own being of a poet, that so slight all the old poets?

DAW. Why? Every man that writes in verse is not a poet; you have of the Wits, that write verses, and yet are no poets: they are poets that live by it, the poor fellows that live by it.

DAU. Why? Would not you live by your verses, Sir John?

CLE. No, 'twere pity he should. A knight live by his verses? He did not make 'em to that end, I hope.

DAU. And yet the noble Sidney lives by his, and the noble family not ashamed.

CLE. Aye, he professed himself; but Sir John Daw has more caution: he'll not hinder his own rising i' the state so much! Do you think he will? Your verses, good Sir John, and no poems.

DAW.

»Silence in woman, is like speech in man,

Deny't who can.«

DAU. Not I, believe it: your reason, sir.

DAW.

»Nor, is't a tale,

That female vice should be a virtue male,

Or masculine vice, a female virtue be:

You shall it see

Proved with increase,

I know to speak, and she to hold her peace.«

Do you conceive me, gentlemen?

DAU. No faith, how mean you with increase, Sir John?

DAW. Why, with increase is, when I court her for the common cause of mankind; and she says nothing, but consentire videtur: and in time is gravida.

DAU. Then this is a ballad of procreation?

CLE. A madrigal of procreation, you mistake.

EPI. 'Pray give me my verses again, servant.

DAW. If you'll ask 'em aloud, you shall.

CLE. See, here's Truewit again!

 

Scene 4

Enter Truewit

 

CLE. Where hast thou been, in the name of madness! Thus accoutred with thy horn?

TRU. Where the sound of it might have pierced your senses with gladness, had you been in ear-reach of it. Dauphine, fall down and worship me: I have forbid the banns, lad. I have been with thy virtuous uncle, and have broke the match.

DAU. You ha' not, I hope.

TRU.