Chloe.  Then you are welcome, sir:  now you are a gentleman born, I can find in my heart to welcome you; for I am a gentlewoman born too, and will bear my head high enough, though ’twere my fortune to marry a tradesman.

Cris.  No doubt of that, sweet feature; your carriage shews it in any man’s eye, that is carried upon you with judgment.
                                             [Re-enter Albius. 
Alb.  Dear wife, be not angry.

Chloe.  Gods my passion!

Alb.  Hear me but one thing; let not your maids set cushions in the parlour windows, nor in the dining-chamber windows; nor upon stools, in either of them, in any case; for ’tis tavern-like:  but lay them one upon another, in some out-room or corner of the dining-chamber.

Chloe.  Go, go; meddle with your bed-chamber only; or rather, with your bed in your chamber only; or rather with your wife in your bed only; or on my faith I’ll not be pleased with you only.

Alb.  Look here, my dear wife, entertain that gentleman kindly, I prithee—­mum.
          
                                            [Exit. 
Chloe.  Go, I need your instructions indeed! anger me no more, I advise you.  Citi-sin, quotha! she’s a wise gentlewoman, i’faith, will marry herself to the sin of the city.

Alb. [re-entering.] But this time, and no more, by heav’n, wife:  hang no pictures in the hall, nor in the dining-chamber, in any case; But in the gallery only; for ‘tis not courtly else, O’ my word, wife.

Chloe.  ’Sprecious, never have done!

Alb.  Wife—­
          
                                            [Exit. 
Chloe.  Do I not bear a reasonable corrigible hand over him, ,
Crispinus?

Cris.  By this hand, lady, you hold a most sweet hand over him.

Alb. [re-entering.] And then, for the great gilt andirons—­

Chloe.  Again!  Would the andirons were in your great guts for me!

Alb.  I do vanish, wife.
          
                                            [Exit. 
Chloe.  How shall I do, master Crispinus? here will be all
the bravest ladies in court presently to see your cousin Cytheris: 
O the gods! how might I behave myself now, as to entertain them
most courtly?

Cris.  Marry, lady, if you will entertain them most courtly, you must do thus:  as soon as ever your maid or your man brings you word they are come, you must say, A pox on ’em I what do they here?  And yet, when they come, speak them as fair, and give them the kindest welcome in words that can be. . . .

Chloe.  Is that the fashion of courtiers, Crispinus?

Cris.  I assure you it is, lady; I have observed it.

Chloe.  For your pox, sir, it is easily hit on; but it is not so easy to speak fair after, methinks.

Alb. [re-entering.] O, wife, the coaches are come, on my word; a number of coaches and courtiers.

Chloe.  A pox on them! what do they here?