Make haste good Jewel,
      I am like the people that live in the sweet Islands: 
      I dye, I dye, if I stay but one day more here,
      My lungs are rotten with the damps that rise,
      And I cough nothing now but stinks of all sorts,
      The inhabitants we have are two starv’d rats,
      For they are not able to maintain a cat here,
      And those appear as fearfull as two Devils,
      They have eat a map of the whole world up already,
      And if we stay a night we are gone for company. 
      There’s an old woman that’s now grown to marble,
      Dri’d in this brick hill, and she sits i’th’ chimnie,
      Which is but three tiles rais’d like a house of cards,
      The true proportion of an old smok’d Sibyl,
      There is a young thing too that nature meant
      For a maid-servant, but ’tis now a monster,
      She has a husk about her like a chesnut
      With basiness, and living under the line here,
      And these two make a hollow sound together,
      Like frogs or winds between two doors that murmur: 

      [Enter Estifania.]

      Mercy deliver me.  O are you come wife,
      Shall we be free again?

Estifania: 

      I am now going,
      And you shall presently to your own house Sir,
      The remembrance of this small vexation
      Will be argument of mirth for ever: 
      By that time you have said your orisons,
      And broke your fast, I shall be back and ready,
      To usher you to your old content, your freedom.

Michael Perez: 

      Break my neck rather, is there any thing here to eat
      But one another, like a race of Cannibals? 
      A piece of butter’d wall you think is excellent,
      Let’s have our house again immediatly,
      And pray ye take heed unto the furniture,
      None be imbezil’d.

Estifania: 

Not a pin I warrant ye.
198]

Michael Perez: 

      And let ’em instantly depart.

Estifania: 

      They shall both,
      There’s reason in all courtesies, they must both,
      For by this time I know she has acquainted him,
      And has provided too, she sent me word Sir,
      And will give over gratefully unto you.

Michael Perez: 

      I’le walk i’th’ Church-yard,
      The dead cannot offend more than these living,
      An hour hence I’le expect ye.

Estifania: 

      I’le not fail Sir.

Michael Perez: 

      And do you hear, let’s have a handsom dinner,
      And see all things be decent as they have been,
      And let me have a strong bath to restore me,
      I stink like a stal-fish shambles, or an oyl-shop.

Estifania: 

      You shall have all, which some interpret nothing,
      I’le send ye people for the trunks afore-hand,
      And for the stuff.