PHIL. Nay, then, I find this goes well forward still. Mother, give me your hand [_to_ MRS G.], give me yours too-- Be not so loth; some good thing I must do; But lay your torches by, I like not them; Come, come, deliver them unto your men: Give me your hands. So, now, sir, here I stand, Holding two angry women in my hand: And I must please them both; I could please tone[441], But it is hard when there is two to one, Especially of women; but 'tis so, They shall be pleas'd, whether they will or no.-- Which will come first? what, both give back! ha, neither! Why, then, yond help that both may come together[442]. So, stand still, stand [still] but a little while, And see, how I your angers will beguile. Well, yet there is no hurt; why, then, let me Join these two hands, and see how they'll agree: Peace, peace! they cry; look how they friendly kiss! Well, all this while there is no harm in this: Are not these two twins? twins should be both alike, If tone speaks fair, the tother should not strike: Jesus, the warriors will not offer blows! Why, then, 'tis strange that you two should be foes. O yes, you'll say, your weapons are your tongues; Touch lip with lip, and they are bound from wrongs: Go to, embrace, and say, if you be friends, That here the angry women's quarrels ends. MRS GOUR. Then here it ends, if Mistress Barnes say so. MRS BAR. If you say ay, I list not to say no. MR GOUR. If they be friends, by promise we agree. MR BAR. And may this league of friendship ever be! PHIL. What say'st thou, Frank? doth not this fall out well? FRAN. Yes, if my Mall were here, then all were well. _Enter_ SIR RALPH SMITH _with_ MALL. [MALL _stays behind_.] SIR RALPH. Yonder they be, Mall: stay, stand close, and stir not Until I call. God save ye, gentlemen! MR BAR. What, Sir Ralph Smith! you are welcome, man: We wond'red when we heard you were abroad. SIR RALPH. Why, sir, how heard ye that I was abroad? MR BAR. By your man. SIR RALPH. My man! where is he? WILL. Here. SIR RALPH. O, ye are a trusty squire! NICH. It had been better, and he had said, a sure card. PHIL. Why, sir? NICH. Because it is the proverb. PHIL. Away, ye ass! NICH. An ass goes a four legs; I go of two, Christ cross. PHIL. Hold your tongue. NICH. And make no more ado. MR GOUR. Go to, no more ado. Gentle Sir Ralph, Your man is not in fault for missing you, For he mistook by us, and we by him. SIR RALPH. And I by you, which now I well perceive. But tell me, gentlemen, what made ye all Be from your beds this night, and why thus late Are your wives walking here about the fields[443]: 'Tis strange to see such women of accompt Here; but I guess some great occasion [prompt.]