Anto. Bid e’m stay, their sports are more in season after Dinner. 
So willing now to have it read, and yet before so backward!
    [Ex. Cael. 
Why, this confirms me she is false, it was contriv’d
On purpose for my sight.  The Devil’s not so cunning
As a Woman.
    [Enter Nurse. 
Oh, Beldame, are you come?  Tell me, you Bawd,
Who Whores my Wife?  For Whore I know she is,
And you’re her Bawd.  Tell me, I say, the man,
The place, the Circumstance, and very time,
Or I will quarter thee, and throw thy flesh to’th’ dogs.

Nurse. Alas, my Lord, I know nothing, but that when
You’re from Home, Pedro goes to her Chamber, and
Stays there all Night, but what they do, I know
Not, for none but Flora’s with them.

Anto. Pedro!  Oh monstrous, she would devour a Legion!  Is’t every Night, do you say?

Nurse. Yes, every Night; but I durst never tell you!  Alas, she suckt these Breasts.

Anto. Shew me this Night Pedro, in Bed with her, Or I will cut thy Tongue out.

Nurse. ’Tis impossible when you are at home.

Anto. I will contrive a Journey out of Town, but will at Twelve return, then let me in; for if you fail I’le cut your Throat.

Nurse. I’le do my best.
    [Exit.

Anto. Pedro!  What sordid Devil prompted her to that? 
Why, I am known to all the World a Cuckold;
The very Boys i’th’ street must point at me;
But hold, this new Intelligence struck out the old,
And made me quite forget about Francisco.

  Enter Jasper_._

Oh, Jasper!  I’m confirm’d my Wife’s a Devil,
And I will send her to the rest e’re Morning;
Go and contrive a Letter from Don John;
Shall intimate he’s sick, and wants my presence,
Then I’le contrive the rest.

Jasp. Be not too rash, my Lord, might I advise You should be certain e’re you Acted ought.

Anto. How can I be more certain then this Night, To be Eye-witness of her Lust my self, As Nurse has undertook I shall.

Jasp. Ay, Sir, but things may fail, and they not meet.

Anto. Name a more certain way then.

Jasp. My Lord, there lives a Woman in the Suburbs, Mighty in Science, who by Art can tell All that she pleases, I’de have you go to her.

Anto. Is she of your acquaintance?

Jasp. No, my Lord, she scorns such things as me,
She’s for the great ones; though for Charity,
She sometimes helps poor people to their goods,
I’me sure she’d serve your Lordship.

Anto. I fear she’l never trust us, lest we should betray Her to the Inquisition.

Jasp. No fear of that, she cannot be betray’d, She knows Mens bus’ness er’e they come unto her.

Anto. Well then, contrive my absence, I’le go thither,
I’m sure to know whether she cheats or no,
For if she names Don Lewis ’mongst the rest,
I shall believe her.  Well, about the Letter.
    [Exit.