_Enter the two_ Lovelesses, Savil _the Steward, and a Page_.

_Elder Love_. Brother, is your last hope past to mollifie _Morecrafts_
heart about your Morgage?

_Young Love_. Hopelesly past: I have presented the Usurer with a richer
draught than ever _Cleopatra_ swallowed; he hath suckt in ten thousand
pounds worth of my Land, more than he paid for at a gulp, without
Trumpets.

_El. Lo_. I have as hard a task to perform in this house.

_Yo. Lo._ Faith mine was to make an Usurer honest, or to lose my Land.

_El. Lo._ And mine is to perswade a passionate woman, or to leave the
Land. Make the boat stay, I fear I shall begin my unfortunate journey this
night, though the darkness of the night and the roughness of the waters
might easily disswade an unwilling man.

_Savil._ Sir, your Fathers old friends hold it the sounder course for your
body and estate to stay at home and marry, and propagate and govern in our
Country, than to Travel and die without issue.

_El. Lo._ _Savil_, you shall gain the opinion of a better servant, in
seeking to execute, not alter my will, howsoever my intents succeed.

_Yo. Lo._ Yonder's Mistres _Younglove_, Brother, the grave rubber of your
Mistresses toes.