INIQUITY. He that layeth hands on me in this place, Ich lay my brawling iron on his face! By Gog's blood, I defy thy worst; If thou shouldest hang me, I were accurst. I have been at as low an ebb as this, And quickly aloft again, by Gis! I have mo friends than ye think I have; I am entertained of all men like no slave: Yea, within this moneth, I may say to you, I will be your servant and your master too. Yea, creep into your breast, will ye have it so? JUDGE. Away with them both, lead them away At his death tell me what he doth say, For then belike he will not lie. INIQUITY, I care not for you both, no, not a fly! [_They lead them out_. JUDGE. If no man have here more matter to say, I must go hence some other way. [_He goeth out_. _Enter_ WORLDLY SHAME. WORLDLY SHAME. Ha, ha! though I come in rudely, be not aghast, I must work a feat in all the haste; I have caught two birds, I will set for the dame, If I catch her in my clutch, I will her tame. Of all this while know ye not my name? I am right worshipful master Worldly Shame; The matter that I come now about Is even this, I put you out of doubt-- There is one[243] Xantippe, a curst shrew, I think all the world doth her know, Such a jade she is, and so curst a quean, She would out-scold the devil's dame, I ween. Sirs, this fine woman had babes three, Twain the dearest darlings that might be, Ismael and fair Dalilah these two: With the lout Barnabas I have nothing to do. All was good, that these tiddlings do might: Swear, lie, steal, scold, or fight: Cards, dice, kiss, clip, and so forth: All this our mammy would take in good worth. Now, sir, Dalilah my daughter is dead of the pox, And my son hang'th[244] in chains, and waveth his locks. These news will I tell her, and the matter so frame, That she shall be thine own, master Worldly Shame! Ha, ha, ha!-- XANTIPPE. Peace, peace, she cometh hereby, I spoke no word of her, no, not I. WORLDLY SHAME. O Mistress Xantippe, I can tell you news:[245] The fair wench, your dear daughter Dalilah, Is dead of the pox taken at the stews; And thy son Ismael, that pretty boy, Whom I dare say you loved very well, Is hanged in chains, every[246] man can tell. Every man saith thy daughter was a strong whore, And thy son a strong thief and a murderer. It must needs grieve you wonderous, That they died so shamefully both two: Men will taunt you and mock you, for they say now The cause of their death was even very you. XANTIPPE. I the cause of their death? [_She would sowne_.[247] WORLDLY SHAME. Will ye sowne, the devil stop thy breath? Thou shalt die (I trow) with more shame; I will get me hence out of the way, If the whore should die, men would me blame; That I killed her, knaves should say. [_Exit_.