Abbot.  Consider, sonnes, this cloystered place of ours
Is but newe reared; the founder, hee still lyves,
A souldier once and eminent in the feild,
And after many battayles nowe retyrd
In peace to lyve a lyff contemplative. 
Mongst many other charitable deedes,
Unto religion hee hathe vowed this howse,
Next to his owne fayre mantion that adjoynes
And parted only by a slender wall. 
Who knwes but that hee neighboring us so neare
And havinge doone this unto pious ends,
May carry over us and our behavioures
An austere eye of censure?

Fr. Jhon.  Fitt therefore Wee should bee in our actions cautelous.[60]

Fr. Rich.  And carefull least wee may incurr displeasure Of such a noble patron.

Abbot.  Well observ’d.  His bewtious Lady—­

Fr. Jhon.  A sweete soule indeede.

Fr. Rich.  On whom Fryar Jhon casts many a leering eye:  I have observd that too.

Abbot.  Boath for her outward feature
And for her inward graces excellent
Beyond compare, shee lykewyse is to us
A worthy benefactor.

Fr. Rich.  Tis confest.

Fr. Jhon.  Would I might com to bee her confessor:  It is a fayre sweete lady.

Fr. Rich.[61] Howe the lecher Hugges at the very name.

Abbot.  Morninge and eveninge
They deyly com to mattens and to evensonge;
Such and so greate is theire devotion. 
That, if not crasd or feylinge in theire healthe,
They do not misse us any hower of prayer;
And therefore it behooves us all in generall
To sett a carefull watche upon our deedes,
Least we that are proffest religious
Bee in the least deffective.

Fr. Richard.  Noate, Fryar Jhon, Howe hee makes anticke faces and in scorne Of this your reverent counsell.

Fr. Jhon.  I, alas? 
A weaknes from my childhood, I confesse,
I ever had and cannott helpe it nowe,
To have a trobled countenance.  I make mouthes? 
This (most observed father) but approoves
My innosens and his envye.  Markt you that? 
Fryar Richard bent his fyst and threatned mee. 
I call all these to witnesse.

Fr. Rich.  No such thinge. 
I have a crampe oft takes me in this hand
And makes mee weare clutcht ringers, and that passion
Now came upon mee; but for meanacinge him
It ever was farr from mee.  This but showes
His owld inveterate mallice, which in charity
I wishe might heare lye buried.—­Syrrah, anon
I’l have you by the eares.

Fr. Jhon.  Doo if thou darst; We’ll tugge it out by the teeth.

Fr. Rich.  Meete me i’th orchard Just after even song.

Fr. Jhon.  I will make short prayers Bycause I’l keepe appointment.

Abbot.  I am playne
And breife with all:  eather betwixt you too [sic]
Make frendly reconsilement, and in presence
Of this your brotherhood (for what is fryar
But frater, and that’s brother?), or my selfe
Out of my power will putt you to a penance
Shall make you in one weeke fyve fasting-dayes.