WIFE. You'll have a gracious bargain on't then, doubtless. Trust me, Jocelin, you will distemper all our ladies at court, if you push at the gate with your ram-horns. HUS. She's possessed, sure. WIFE. No, not yet; but I mean shortly to be possessed of my ale-money. You shall play no more the sharking foist with me, you fumbling fiddler, you. I hope I have friends at court that will take course that I may have my whole due; and then _foutre_ for Jocelin! [_Exit._ HUS. Well, the thought is ta'en. I see one must thank God for a shrew as well as for a sheep, though the sheep have more wool on his back, and affords a more savoury repast at the board. Hanging and wedding go by destiny, and I hold the former to be the happier destiny of the twain; yet he that will practise the art of swinging in a halter, either to please or cross a shrew's humour, let him hang like a puppy without hope of pity, and die intestate to make his wife heir on't, till some nimble younker become his successor, and, stumbling on his grave, laugh at the cuckoldly slave. [_Exit._ SCENE IV. _Enter the cashiered_ CONFIDANTS, _in a discontented posture_. FLO. Summoned to appear! for what? What have we done? CAR. Incensed those humorous scornful ladies. Thence rose the ground, I durst wager my beaver on't; They ought us a spite, and their information has done't. PAL. This falls pat on their resolves: for those disdainful wenches, in the heat of their passion, vowed jointly that revenge should kick up our heels. SAL. Our heels are not so short, though theirs be. Should they pursue this information, it would dart highly on their dishonour. MOR. Honour! what may that be in this age, but an airy title? These _bona-robas_ have not lost the art of ingratiating, nor deluding their servants. There be chimneys enough at court to convey their smoke. Beauty and confidence keep strong sentinels in love's army. They cannot want solicitors in a place of liberty. TIL. Let them hold to't! Their complaints are but squibs in the air. Such whifflers are below my scorn, and beneath my spite. Let's bravely on: I should account his fate The worst of ills, that's foil'd by woman's hate. FLO. Yet 'twas Alcides' heavy fate, and he Was stronger far than twenty such as we. [_Exeunt._ SCENE V. _Enter the_ ALIMONY LADIES. FRI. Convened to court! Some masque or princely ball, I'll gage mine honour on't. We must be employed, sisters. CAV. And usefully too, I hope. JUL. I see well the court can do nothing without our city revellers. Trust me, I am with child till I get to't: but my desires are enlivened for a sight of my lord especially. JOC. Or your special lord, madam. We smell your meaning. As I am virtuous, he deserves your smile, or whatsoever may most endear him. I have known none at any time court love with a more graceful nor accurate presence. He can be both seriously amorous and amorously serious.