Pray, sir, your pardon;
For I must travel. Lie lazy here,
Bound to a wife? chain'd to her subtleties,
Her humours, and her wills, which are mere fetters?
To have her to-day pleased, to-morrow peevish,
The third day mad, the fourth rebellious?
You see, before they are married, what moriscoes,
What masques and mummeries they put upon us:
To be tied here, and suffer their lavoltas!
Not before I have changed air, father.
When I know women worthy of my company,
I will return again and wait upon 'em;
Till then, dear sir, I'll amble all the world over,
And run all hazards, misery, and poverty,
So I escape the dangerous bay of matrimony!
Is there ne'er a land
That you have read, or heard of (for I care not how far it be,
Nor under what pestiferous star it lies),
A happy kingdom, where there are no women?
Nor have been ever? nor no mention
Of any such lewd things, with lewder qualities?
For thither would I travel; where 'tis felony
To confess he had a mother; a mistress treason.
Why did you not break your minds to me? they are my daughters;
And sure I think I should have that command over 'em,
To see 'em well bestow'd. I know ye are gentlemen,
Men of fair parts and states; I know your parents;
And had ye told me of your fair affections
Make but one trial more, and let me second ye.
I'll come i' th' rear, forty foot off, I'll assure you,
With a good gun in my hand; I'll no more Amazons,
I mean no more of their frights: I'll make my three legs,
Kiss my hand twice, and if I smell no danger,
If the interview be clear, may be I'll speak to her;
I'll wear a privy coat too, and behind me,
To make those parts secure, a bandog.
But this man, sir, particularly; your own benefit
Must needs imprint him in you; one Alberto,
A gentleman you saved from being murder'd
A little from Bologna:
I was then myself in Italy, and supplied you;
Though happily you have forgot me now.
But on his death-bed, leaving to his sister
All that he had, beside some certain jewels
(Which, with a ceremony, he bequeathed to you,
In grateful memory), he commanded strictly
His sister, as she loved him and his peace,
To see those jewels safe and true deliver'd,
And, with them, his last love. She, as tender to
Observe this will, not trusting friend nor servant
With such a weight, is come herself to Paris,
And at my master's house.
I tell you a truth, sir. She is young and handsome,
And well attended; of much state and riches;
So loving and obedient to her brother,
That, on my conscience, if he had given her also,
She would most willingly have made her tender.
I may be,
(I find that) with the least encouragement;
Yet I desire to see whether all countries
Are naturally possess'd with the same spirits,
For if they be, I'll take a monastery,
And never travel; for I had rather be a friar,
And live mewed up, than be a fool, and flouted.