_You_ to the sweet society of your equals, Where the world's fashion smiles on youth and beauty.
_Marg_.

Where young men's flatteries cozen young maids' beauty.
There pride oft gets the vantage hand of duty, There sweet humility withers.
_Simon_.

Mistress Margaret, How fared my brother John, when you left Devon?
_Marg_.

John was well, sir.
_Simon_.

'Tis now nine months almost, Since I saw home.