+Dor.+ No, no, sir; she came to me with ne'er a crack about her. +Lod.+ These will be brave sins to mix with her virtues! Why, they will make no more show than three or four bailiffs amongst a company of honest men. [_Aside._] These sins, my dove-like daughter, are out of contradiction venial, trivial, and light. Have you none of greater growth? +Dor.+ O yes, sir, one! +Lod.+ One! What should that be, I wonder? +Dor.+ One yet remains behind Of weight and consequence. The same order Heralds prescribe in shows, I now observe In placing of my sins; as there inferiors Fare 'fore the persons of great note,[145] so last, Because the last lives freshest in our memories,[146] My great sin comes to obliterate those pass'd. +Lod.+ Sh' has trod some chicken to death, I warrant her. [_Aside._ +Dor.+ Hear me, and let a blush make you look red. Unseemly I have abus'd my husband's bed. +Lod.+ You did ill to drink too hard ere you went to bed. +Dor.+ Alas, sir! you mistake me: I have lain With another man besides my husband. +Lod.+ How? +Dor.+ Nay, the same way I use to lie with him, But not altogether so often. +Lod.+ Why then, _Crede quod habes, et habes_, I will believe I have horns, for I have 'em. 'Sfoot, a woman, I perceive, is a neat herald; she can quarter her husband's coat with another's[147] arms at pleasure. But I have a penance for your pure whoreship. [_Aside._] You are somewhat broad: are you not with child, daughter? +Dor.+ Yes, yes; sure, 'twas that night's work. +Lod.+ How know you that? +Dor.+ Alas! by experience, sir. The kind fool my husband Wishes all well; but, like a light piece of gold, He's taken for more than he weighs. +Lod.+ With child! there's charges too: o' th' other side, there should follow A zealous exhortation: but great affairs That brook no stay make me be brief, rememb'ring Lawful necessity may dispense with ceremony. You are ingenuously sorry? +Dor.+ Yes, indeed, sir. +Lod.+ And resolve to fall no more so? +Dor.+ No, in truth, sir. +Lod.+ I then pronounce you here absolv'd. Now for your penance. +Dor.+ Anything. +Lod.+ As the fact in you seems strange, so blame me not If your penance be as strange. You may wonder at it, But it is wonderous easy in performance; But as your penance I enjoin it. Nay, now I remember In an old French authentic author, his book 'Titled, _De Satisfactione_, I read the same Enjoin'd a lady of Dauphin. 'Tis no holy fast, No devout prayer, nor no zealous pilgrimage; 'Tis out of the prescrib'd road. +Dor.+ Let it be So strange [that] story ne'er match'd the injunction, I do vow the plenal strict performance.