[Ex.  Fish.

Clowne.  No wonder these fellowes pretend to be witty; for understandinge, so manye have lost there witts as ... they have fisht for it and in som drawenett or other have caught it.  But where might these lost shrewes bee?  I suspect this pestiferous Je vous prie hathe putt some slovenly tricke or other to cheate my mayster boathe of his ware and mony.

    Enter Scribonia with an empty pale to y’e Clow.

Scribon.  Thus beinge chered with warmth, and change of clothes,
With all such comforts as the cloyster yeelds,
I am dyrected to a neighbours by
For water to refreshe and wash our selves. 
And this shoold bee the howse.

Clowne.  What! not Scribonia, One of the flock that’s missing?

Scrib.  Oh sweete Jayms, Where is your noble maister?

Clowne.  Nay, sweete rogue, Where is his bewteous mystresse?

Scrib.  Heare within.

Clowne.  In this place joyninge to the monastery?  And Mildewe too?

Scrib.  Rott on that villeyne! no.

Clowne.  Hee promist to bringe you too alonge and meete with my master and som others of his frends att supper.

Scrib.  Can such men, ever false unto theire God, Keepe faythe with men at any tyme?

Clowne. But staye, staye, there’s one riddle I cannot expound:  howe com thou so suddenly to lepp out of a howse of roguery into a howse of religion, from a stewes to a cloyster, from beastleness to blessednes and from a sacrilegious place to a sanctuary?

Scrib.  Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill, Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames Hathe brought us to the happy patronage Of this most reverent abbott.

Clowne.  What dangers? what extreames?

Scrib.  From the sea’s fury, drowneing; for last night Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks.

Clowne.  Sayd in a jest, in deede!  Shipwreck by land![86] I perceive you tooke the woodden waggen for a ship and the violent rayne for the sea, and by cause some one of the wheeles broake and you cast into some water plashe, you thought the shipp had splitt and you had bene in danger of drowneinge.

Scrib.  Are you then ignorant how, late in the even,
With purpose to make better sale of us
And to defraude thy maister, hee shipt us
With all the gold and jewels that hee had,
All which save wee are perisht?

Clowne.  But that caterpiller, that ould catamiting cankerworme, what’s become of him?

Scrib.  Dead I hope, with drinkinge of salte water.

Clowne.  I would all of his profession had pledged him the same healthe.  But how doth Palestra take this?

Scrib.  Gladd to bee rid of such a slavery,
Yet sadly weepinge for her casket’s losse,
That which included ample testimony
Bothe of her name and parents.