_Host_. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243] thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my Guests then. [_Exit_. _Hostis_. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might have done other wise. _Enter Cittizens Wife_. _City W_. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better since men were Purse-bearers. _Hosty_. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife. _Citie wi_. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee, Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244] shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her. _Hosty_. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what. _City wi_. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body is to beare the pursse. _Hostis_. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not. _Citty wife_. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde, they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no weake vessels, I warrant them. _Enter[245] Prentice_. _Pren_. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye. _Hostis_. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want, I warrant ye. [_Exit[245] Prentice_. _City w_. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down late, & a thousand things they looke not too. _Hostis_. And yet they must have the government of all. _City w_. And great reason they have for it, but a wise man will put in a Woman's hand: what sheele save that hee spends. _Hostis_. You have a pretty Ruffe, how deepe is it? _City w_. Nay, this is but shallowe, marrie I have a Ruffe is a quarter deepe, measured by the yard. _Hostis_. Indeede, by the yard. _City w_. By the standard: you have a pretty set too, how big is the steele you set it with? _Hostis_. As bigge as a reasonable sufficient-- _Enter Prentice_. _Pren_. Mistris, my Maister would desire you to come in. _Citty w_. What? she shall not come yet: if you lay down the bucklers, you lose the victorie. _Hostis_. By my troth, I must goe, we shall have such a coyle else. _Cittie w_. A coyle! why, have you not a tongue in your head? faith if ye win not all at that weapon, yee are not worthy to be a woman. You heare not the news abroade?