Wood. And you have richly deserved it.

Gerv. I will not say, who has better deserved it of my old master.

Wood. Away, old Epictetus, about your business, and leave your musty morals, or I shall—­

Gerv. Nay, I won’t forfeit my own wisdom so far as to suffer for it.  Rest you merry:  I’ll do my best, and heaven mend all. [Exit.

  Enter SAINTLY.

Saint. Verily, I have waited till you were alone, and am come to rebuke you, out of the zeal of my spirit.

Wood. It is the spirit of persecution.  Dioclesian, and Julian the apostate, were but types of thee.  Get thee hence, thou old Geneva testament:  thou art a part of the ceremonial law, and hast been abolished these twenty years.

Saint. All this is nothing, sir.  I am privy to your plots:  I’ll discover them to Mr Limberham, and make the house too hot for you.

Wood. What, you can talk in the language of the world, I see!

Saint. I can, I can, sir; and in the language of the flesh and devil too, if you provoke me to despair:  You must, and shall be mine, this night.

Wood. The very ghost of queen Dido in the ballad.[10]

Saint. Delay no longer, or—­

Wood. Or! you will not swear, I hope?

Saint. Uds-niggers but I will; and that so loud, that Mr Limberham shall hear me.

Wood. Uds-niggers, I confess, is a very dreadful oath.  You could lie naturally before, as you are a fanatic; if you can swear such rappers too, there is hope of you; you may be a woman of the world in time.  Well, you shall be satisfied, to the utmost farthing, to-night, and in your own chamber.

Saint. Or, expect to-morrow—­

Wood. All shall be atoned ere then.  Go, provide the bottle of clary, the Westphalia ham, and other fortifications of nature; we shall see what may be done.  What! an old woman must not be cast away.
          
                                              [Chucks her.

Saint. Then, verily, I am appeased.

Wood. Nay, no relapsing into verily; that is in our bargain.  Look how she weeps for joy!  It is a good old soul, I warrant her.

Saint. You will not fail?

Wood. Dost thou think I have no compassion for thy gray hairs?  Away, away; our love may be discovered:  We must avoid scandal; it is thy own maxim. [Exit SAINTLY.  They are all now at ombre; and Brainsick’s maid has promised to send her mistress up.

Enter PLEASANCE.

That fury here again!

Pleas. [Aside.] I’ll conquer my proud spirit, I am resolved on it, and speak kindly to him.—­What, alone, sir!  If my company be not troublesome; or a tender young creature, as I am, may safely trust herself with a man of such prowess, in love affairs—­It wonnot be.