W. RASH. This is very good, i' faith: first give thee but opportunity, and let thee alone; then make her but speak, and let thee alone; now make her hold her tongue, and then let thee alone By my troth, I think I were best to let thee alone indeed: but come, follow me; the wild cat shall not carry it so away. Walk, walk, as we did. JOYCE. What, have you fetched your champion? What can he do? Not have you nor himself from out the storm Of my incensed rage: I will thunder into your ears The wrongs that you have done an innocent maid: O, you're a couple of sweet----what shall I call you? Men you are not; for, if you were, You would not offer this unto a maid. Wherein have I deserved it at your hands? Have I not been always a kind sister to you, and in signs and tokens showed it? Did I not send money to you at Cambridge, when you were but a freshman? wrought you purses and bands; and since you came to th' inns-o'-court, a fair pair of hangers? Have you not taken rings from me, which I have been fain to say I have lost when you had pawned them; and yet was never beholden to you for a pair of gloves? W. RASH. A woman's tongue, I see, is like a bell, That, once being set agoing, goes itself. JOYCE. And yet you, to join with my sister against me, send one here to play upon me, whilst you laugh and leer, and make a pastime on me. Is this brotherly done? No, it is barbarous; and a Turk would blush to offer it to a Christian. But I will think on't, and have it written in my heart, when it hath slipped your memories. W. RASH. When will your tongue be weary? JOYCE. Never. W. RASH. How! never? Come, talk, and I'll talk with you: I'll try the nimble footmanship of your tongue; And if you can out-talk me, your's be the victory. [_Here they two talk and rail what they list; and then_ WILL RASH _speaks to_ STAINES. ALL SPEAK. Ud's foot! dost thou stand by, and do nothing? Come, talk, and drown her clamours. [_Here they all three, talk, and_ JOYCE _gives over, weeping, and Exit_. _Enter_ GERTRUDE _and_ GERALDINE. GERA. Alas! she's spent, i' faith: now the storm's over. W. RASH. Ud's foot! I'll follow her, as long as I have any breath. GERT. Nay, no more now, brother; you have no compassion; you see she cries. STAINES. If I do not wonder she could talk so long, I am a villain. She eats no nuts, I warrant her; 'sfoot, I am almost out of breath with that little I talked: well, gentle brothers, I might say (for she and I must clap hands upon't) a match for all this. Pray, go in; and, sister, salve the matter, collogue with her again, and all shall be well: I have a little business that must be thought upon, and 'tis partly for your mirth, therefore let me not (though absent) be forgotten: farewell. W. RASH. We will be mindful of you, sir; fare you well. GERA. How now, man! what, tired, tired?