Sis.  Tis even so; Madam, the preist has done it.

La.  May then all joyes attend you; if this had Been knowne, it might have staid Sir Richard and Your Uncle one day more.

    Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas.

Un.  Come for another Couple.

Tho.  In hell[277]; my Master is married.

La.  My husband left some letters and a token
Was sent you Mistris Dorothy.  You did ill
To obscure your selfe so much; you shall not want
Hereafter all respects that may become you.

Do.  Madam, I know not what you meane.

Cap.  She wonot take it upon her yet.

Un.  Theres the sport.

    Enter Device.

De.  Oh, Madam, newes, ill newes, an accident Will blast all your mirth:  Sir Francis—­

Cou:  La.  What of him?

De.  Has brooke—­

Cou.  His neck?

De.  You guest very neere it, but his shoulder Has sav’d that joynt.  A fall from’s horse, they say, Hath much endanger’d him.

Cou.  My Uncle hurt! [Exit.

La.  He has kept his word; now if he but counterfeit handsomely.

Un.  Mounsier Device, I must entreat a Courtesie; you have wit, and I would have a Masque to entertaine my new father-in-law Sir Walter Littleland.  Mistres Dorothy, now my wife, is his onely Daughter and heire.

Do.  Who has guld you thus?  I am no knights Daughter; You may share your poeticall invention, sir.

De.  Give you joy, Captaine.

Un.  She is still loth to confesse it.

    Enter Sir Francis, Lady, Courtwell, Sister, Captaine.

Fra.  If you have charity a bone setter.

La.  He does counterfeit rarely.—­Wheres Sir Richard?

Fra.  He rid before, but I sent my footman to tell him this misfortune.  Oh, Madam!

La.—­This is better then the toothack; he carries it excellently.

Fra.  Aske me no torturing questions; I desire, Madam, a little conference with you.  Ile thanke the rest if they withdraw:  oh!

[Cou.[278]] Letts leave him.

Un.  Wee’le to my chamber, captaine.

Cap.  You have a mind to examine the business privatly?

Do.  No, good Captaine, you may be present.

Cou.  Come, Thomas, thou shat be witnes, too.

[Ext. all but Sir Francis and Lady.

La.  They are gone; they feigne most artificially, Let me embrace you.

Fra.  Oh, take heed.

La.  What’s the matter?

Fra.  Tis no dissembling,—­Madam; I have had
A fall indeed, a dreadfull fall; I feele it. 
I thinke my horse saw the Divell in some hedge: 
Ere I had rid three furlongs, gave a start,
Pitcht me of ons back like a barr and broke
A flint with my shoulder, I thinke, which strooke fire too;
There was something like it in my eyes, Ime punish’d.