_Non_. All friends! all friends! No ripping up old stories; you
shall have my daughter.
_Lov_. Faith, I see your lordship would let lodgings ready
furnished; but I am for an empty tenement.
_Non_. I had almost forgot my own great belly. If he should
discover that too! [_Claps his hat before it_.
_Isa. [To Lov_.] You will not hear me, sir. 'Tis all roguery, as
I live.
_Lov_. Flat roguery, I'll swear! If I had been father on't, nay,
if I had but laid my breeches upon the bed, I would have married her:
But I see we are not ordained for one another.
[_Is going_.
_Non_. I beseech you, sir.
_Lov_. Pray cover, my lord.
_Isa_. He does his great belly, methinks.
_Non_. I'll make it up in money to you.
_Lov_. That cannot tempt me. I have a friend, that shall be
nameless, that will not see me want; and so, your servant.
[_Exit_ LOVEBY.
_Isa_. I'll after, and bring him back.
_Non_. You shall not stir after him;--Does he scorn my daughter?
_Isa_. Lord, how fretful you are! This breeding makes you so
peevish, uncle.
_Non_. 'Tis no matter, she shall straight be married to Sir
Timorous.
_Const_. I am ruined, cousin.
[_Aside_.
_Isa_. I warrant you.--My lord, I wish her well married to Sir
Timorous; but Loveby will certainly infect him with the news of her
great belly.
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