_Ashb_. And I'l guard you As weare you myne owne children. _Mild_. Gainst there lord, Owner and mayster? _Ashb_. None is lordd with us But such as are freeborne; our Christian lawes Do not allowe such to bee bought or sould For any Bawde or pander to hyre such To comon prostitution. Heere they stand: Tutch but a garment, nay a heyre of theres With thy least finger, thy bald head I'l sinke Belowe thy gowtye foote. _Mild_. I am opprest, Is theire no lawe in _France_? _Ashb_. Yes, Syr, to punish These chastityes seducers. _Mild_. Give me fyar, I will not leive of all this monastery Of you or these, of what's combustible, Naye of my self, one moiety unconsumed. _Godf_. His frend before him wisht the towne a fyre, Now hee would burne the cloyster: too arch-pillers![107] _Ashb_. And lyke such Our purpose is to use them. Dare not, miscreant, But to give these a menace whom thou calst thyne, No not by beck or nod; if thou but styer [stir] To doo unto this howse of sanctity Damadge or outrage, I will lay thee prostrate Beneathe these staves and halberts. _Mild_. Is this lawe? _Godf_. Yes _Staffords_[108] lawe. _Ashb_. Naye, feare not, pretty guerles; The fryars them selfs, weare they not at theire prayers Wold have doon more than this in just defens Of theire immunityes; but in theire absens I stand for them, nor shall you part from hence Or dare to sqeelche till they themselves be judge. Of injurye doone to this sacred place, Or such as I have sent for make appearance To clayme what thou unjustly calst thyne owne. _Godf_. Nay, thou shall stand; wee have too stringes to our Bow. _Ashb_. If hee but styer then stryke. _Mild_. This _Stafford_ law, Which I till nowe heard never nam'd in _France_, Is for the present a more fearefull coort Then chancery or star-chamber. I want motion; You have made [me] a statue, a meere Imadge. _Godf_.[109] Styer and thou diest: weele maule you. _Mild_. Iff heare I can have none, lett me depart To seake elcewhere for justyce. _Sarl_. Keepe him prisoner, And sett mee free to finde some advocate To pleade in his just cause. _Godf_. Neather styrre In payne of too _Frensh_ crownes, and they so crack[t] Never more to passe for currant. _Ashb_. That presume. _Mild_. Misery of miseryes! I am bound hand and foote, And yet boath legges and armes at liberty. _Godf_. Yes by the lawe cald _Stafforde_. _Enter Mr. Raphael, Mr. Treadway and the Clowne_. _Raph_. Durst then the slave use my _Palestra_ thus, And dragge her by the heyre from sanctuary? _Clowne_. Most trew, Syr. _Raph_. Why did'st not kill him? _Clowne_. If I had had but a swoard I had doon't, but I sought the villadge through and cold find neare a cutter. _Raph_. Weare there no skattered stones lye in the streete To have beate his breynes out? _Clowne_. Not a stone to throwe att a dogg. _Raph_. Had'st thou not heeles _Clowne_. Yes to have kickt him lyke a dogge, but I reserved them to roon the more nimbly about your busines.