No, I was ignorantly officious, impertinent: this was the absurd, weak part.

CLE. Wilt thou ascribe that to merit, now, was mere fortune?

TRU. Fortune? Mere providence. Fortune had not a finger in 't. I saw it must necessarily in nature fall out so: my genius is never false to me in these things. Show me how it could be otherwise.

DAU. Nay, gentlemen, contend not, 'tis well now.

TRU. Alas, I let him go on with inconsiderate and rash, and what he pleased.

CLE. Away thou strange justifier of thyself, to be wiser than thou wert, by the event.

TRU. Event! By this light, thou shalt never persuade me, but I foresaw it, as well as the stars themselves.

DAU. Nay, gentlemen, 'tis well now: do you two entertain Sir John Daw with discourse, while I send her away with instructions.

TRU. I'll be acquainted with her first, by your favour.

CLE. Master Truewit, lady, a friend of ours.

TRU. I am sorry, I have not known you sooner, lady, to celebrate this rare virtue of your silence.

CLE. Faith, an' you had come sooner, you should ha' seen and heard her well celebrated in Sir John Daw's madrigals.

 

Exeunt Dauphine, Epicoene, Cutbeard

TRU. Jack Daw, God save you, when saw you La Fool?

DAW. Not since last night, Master Truewit.

TRU. That's miracle! I thought you two had been inseparable.

DAW. He's gone to invite his guests.

TRU. God's so! 'Tis true! What a false memory have I towards that man! I am one: I met him e'en now, upon that he calls his delicate fine black horse, rid into a foam, with posting from place to place and person to person, to give 'em the cue ––

CLE. Lest they should forget?

TRU. Yes: there was never poor captain took more pains at a muster to show men, than he, at this meal, to show friends.

DAW. It is his quarter-feast, sir.

CLE. What! Do you say so, Sir John?

TRU. Nay, Jack Daw will not be out, at the best friends he has, to the talent of his wit: where's his mistress, to hear and applaud him? Is she gone!

DAW. Is Mistress Epicoene gone?

CLE. Gone afore, with Sir Dauphine, I warrant, to the place.

TRU. Gone afore! That were a manifest injury; a disgrace and a half: to refuse him at such a festival time, as this, being a Bravery and a Wit too.

CLE. Tut, he'll swallow it like cream: he's better read in jure civili, than to esteem anything a disgrace is offered him from a mistress.

DAW. Nay, let her e'en go; she shall sit alone, and be dumb in her chamber, a week together, for John Daw, I warrant her: does she refuse me?

CLE.