Elv. Go hence, good father; my husband, you see, is in an ill humour, and I would not have you witness of his folly.
          
                                           [LORENZO going.

Gom. [Running to the door.] By your reverence’s favour, hold a little; I must examine you something better, before you go.—­Heyday! who have we here?  Father Dominick is shrunk in the wetting two yards and a half about the belly.  What are become of those two timber logs, that he used to wear for legs, that stood strutting like the two black posts before a door?  I am afraid some bad body has been setting him over a fire in a great cauldron, and boiled him down half the quantity, for a recipe.  This is no father Dominick, no huge overgrown abbey-lubber; this is but a diminutive sucking friar.  As sure as a gun, now, father Dominick has been spawning this young slender anti-christ.

Elv. He will be found, there’s no prevention. [Aside.

Gom. Why does he not speak?  What! is the friar possessed with a dumb devil? if he be, I shall make bold to conjure him.

Elv. He is but a novice in his order, and is enjoined silence for a penance.

Gom. A novice, quotha! you would make a novice of me, too, if you could.  But what was his business here? answer me that, gentlewoman, answer me that.

Elv. What should it be, but to give me some spiritual instructions.

Gom. Very good; and you are like to edify much from a dumb preacher.  This will not pass, I must examine the contents of him a little closer.—­O thou confessor, confess who thou art, or thou art no friar of this world!—­[He comes to LORENZO, who struggles with him; his Habit flies open, and discovers a Sword; GOMEZ starts back.]—­As I live, this is a manifest member of the church militant.

Lor. [Aside.] I am discovered; now, impudence be my refuge.—­Yes, faith, ’tis I, honest Gomez; thou seest I use thee like a friend; this is a familiar visit.

Gom. What! colonel Hernando turned a friar! who could have suspected you of so much godliness?

Lor. Even as thou seest, I make bold here.

Gom. A very frank manner of proceeding; but I do not wonder at your visit, after so friendly an invitation as I made you.  Marry, I hope you will excuse the blunderbusses for not being in readiness to salute you; but let me know your hour, and all shall be mended another time.

Lor. Hang it, I hate such ripping up of old unkindness:  I was upon the frolic this evening, and came to visit thee in masquerade.

Gom. Very likely; and not finding me at home, you were forced to toy away an hour with my wife, or so.

Lor. Right; thou speak’st my very soul.

Gom. Why, am not I a friend, then, to help thee out? you would have been fumbling half an hour for this excuse.  But, as I remember, you promised to storm my citadel, and bring your regiment of red locusts upon me for free quarters:  I find, colonel, by your habit, there are black locusts in the world, as well as red.