I thank you fine fool for your most fine plot; this was a subtile
one, a stiff device to have caught Dottrels with. Good senceless Sir,
could you imagine I should swound for you, and know your self to be an
arrant ass? I, a discovered one. 'Tis quit I thank you Sir. Ha, ha, ha.
_Mar_. Take heed Sir, she may chance to swound again.
_All_. Ha, ha, ha.
_Abi_. Step to her Sir, see how she changes colour.
_Elder Lo_. I'le goe to hell first, and be better welcom.
I am fool'd, I do confess it, finely fool'd,
Ladie, fool'd Madam, and I thank you for it.
_Lady_. Faith 'tis not so much worth Sir:
But if I knew when you come next a burding,
I'le have a stronger noose to hold the Woodcock.
_All_. Ha, ha, ha.
_Elder Lo_. I am glad to see you merry, pray laugh on.
_Mar_. H'ad a hard heart that could not laugh at you Sir, ha, ha, ha.
_Lady_. Pray Sister do not laugh, you'le anger him,
And then hee'l rail like a rude Costermonger,
That School-boys had couzened of his Apples,
As loud and senceless.
_Elder Lo_. I will not rail.
_Mar_. Faith then let's hear him Sister.
_Elder Lo_. Yes, you shall hear me.
_Lady_. Shall we be the better by it then?
_Eld. L_. No, he that makes a woman better by his words,
I'le have him Sainted: blows will not doe it.
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