Ars.

     As cunning, as she is sweet; I like this carriage.

     Bar.

     What did he then?

     Ama.

     Why then he talked in his Sleep too,
     Nay, I’le divulge your moral vertues (sheeps-face)
     And talk’d aloud, that every ear was fixt to him: 
     Did not I suffer (do you think) in this time? 
     Talk of your bawling Law, of appellations
     Of Declarations, and Excommunications: 
     Warrants, and Executions:  and such Devils
     That drove all the Gentlemen out o’th’ Church, by hurryes,
     With execrable oaths, they would never come there again. 
     Thus am I served and man’d.

     Lean.

     I pray ye forgive me,
     I must confess I am not fit to wait upon ye: 
     Alas, I was brought up—­

     Ama.

     To be an Asse,
     A Lawyers Asse, to carry Books, and Buckrams.

     Bar.

     But what did you at Church?

     Lop.

     At Church, did you ask her? 
     Do you hear Gentlemen, do you mark that question? 
     Because you are half an Heretick your self, Sir,
     Would ye breed her too? this shall to the Inquisition,
     A pious Gentlewoman reproved for praying? 
     I’le see this filed, and you shall hear further, Sir.

     Ars.

     Ye have an ill heart.

     Lop.

     It shall be found out, Gentlemen,
     There be those youths will search it.

     Die.

     You are warm Signiour,
     But a Faggot will warm ye better:  we are witnesses.

     Lop.

     Enough to hang him, do not doubt.

     Mil.

     Nay certain,
     I do believe h’as rather no Religion.

     Lop.

     That must be known too, because she goes to Church, Sir?
     O monstrum infirme ingens!

     Die.

     Let him go on, Sir,
     His wealth will build a Nunnery, a fair one,
     And this good Lady, when he is hang’d and rotten,
     May there be Abbess.

     Bar.

     You are cozen’d, honest Gentlemen,
     I do not forbid the use but the form, mark me.

     Lop.

     Form? what do you make of form?

     Bar.

     They will undo me,
     Swear, as I oft have done, and so betray me;
     I must make fair way, and hereafter, Wife,
     You are welcome home, and henceforth take your pleasure,
     Go when ye shall think fit, I will not hinder ye,
     My eyes are open now, and I see my errour,
     My shame, as great as that, but I must hide it. 
     The whole conveyance now I smell, but Basta,
     Another time must serve:  you see us friends, now
     Heartily friends, and no more chiding, Gentlemen,
     I have been too foolish, I confess, no more words,
     No more, sweet Wife.