Margarita: 

      Is he a Gentleman?

Altea: 

      Yes and a souldier, as gentle as you would wish him,
      A good fellow, wears good cloaths.

Margarita: 

      Those I’le allow him,
      They are for my credit, does he understand
      But little?

Altea: 

Very little.
183]

Margarita: 

      ’Tis the better,
      Have not the wars bred him up to anger?

Alonzo: 

      No, he will not quarrel with a dog that bites hi[m],
      Let him be drunk or sober, is one silence.

Margarita: 

      H’as no capacity what honor is? 
      For that’s the Souldiers god.

Altea: 

      Honour’s a thing too subtil for his wisdom,
      If honour lye in eating, he is right honourable.

Margarita: 

      Is he so goodly a man do you say?

Altea: 

      As you shall see Lady,
      But to all this is but a trunk.

Margarita: 

      I would have him so,
      I shall adde branches to him to adorn him,
      Goe, find me out this man, and let me see him,
      If he be that motion that you tell me of,
      And make no more noise, I shall entertain him,
      Let him be here.

Altea: 

      He shall attend your Ladiship.
          
                                                     [Exeunt.

      [Enter Juan, Alonzo, and Perez.]

Juan de Castro: 

      Why thou art not married indeed?

Michael Perez: 

      No, no, pray think so,
      Alas I am a fellow of no reckoning,
      Not worth a Ladies eye.

Alonzo: 

      Wou’dst thou steal a fortune,
      And make none of all thy friends acquainted with it,
      Nor bid us to thy wedding?

Michael Perez: 

      No indeed,
      There was no wisdom in’t, to bid an Artist,
      An old seducer to a femal banquet,
      I can cut up my pye without your instructions.

Juan de Castro: 

      Was it the wench i’th’ veil?

Michael Perez: 

      Basto ’twas she,
      The prettiest Rogue that e’re you look’d upon,
      The lovingst thief.

Juan de Castro: 

      And is she rich withal too?

Michael Perez: 

      A mine, a mine, there is no end of wealth Coronel,
      I am an asse, a bashfull fool, prethee Coronel,
      How do thy compa[ni]es fill now?

Juan de Castro: 

You are merry Sir,
184] You intend a safer war at home belike now.

Michael Perez: 

      I do not think I shall fight much this year Coronel,
      I find my self given to my ease a little,
      I care not if I sell my foolish company,
      They are things of hazard.