BRI. Upon which he took an idle conceit, and is run mad upon't: so that ever since he will do nothing but by justice Overdo's warrant; he will not eat a crust, nor drink a little, nor make him in his apparel ready. His wife, sir-reverence, cannot get him make his water, or shift his shirt, without his warrant. OVER. If this be true, this is my greatest disaster. How am I bound to satisfy this poor man, that is of so good a nature to me, out of his wits! where there is no room left for dissembling. [_Aside._ _Re-enter TROUBLEALL._ TRO. If you cannot shew me Adam Overdo, I am in doubt of you; I am afraid you cannot answer it. [_Exit._ HAG. Before me, neighbour Bristle,--and now I think on't better,--justice Overdo is a very parantory person. BRI. O, are you advised of that! and a severe justicer, by your leave. OVER. Do I hear ill o' that side too? [_Aside._ BRI. He will sit as upright on the bench, an you mark him, as a candle in the socket, and give light to the whole court in every business. HAG. But he will burn blue, and swell like a boil, God bless us, an he be angry. BRI. Ay, and he will be angry too, when he lists, that's more; and when he is angry, be it right or wrong, he has the law on's side ever; I mark that too. OVER. I will be more tender hereafter. I see compassion may become a justice, though it be a weakness, I confess, and nearer a vice than a virtue. [_Aside._ HAG. Well, take him out o' the stocks again; we'll go a sure way to work, we'll have the ace of hearts of our side, if we can. [_They take Overdo out._ _Enter POCHER, and Officers with BUSY, followed by DAME PURECRAFT._ POCH. Come, bring him away to his fellow there.--Master Busy, we shall rule your legs, I hope, though we cannot rule your tongue. BUSY. No, minister of darkness, no; thou canst not rule my tongue; my tongue it is mine own, and with it I will both knock and mock down your Bartholomew abominations, till you be made a hissing to the neighbouring parishes round about. HAG. Let him alone, we have devised better upon't. PURE. And shall he not into the stocks then? BRI. No, mistress, we'll have them both to justice Overdo, and let him do over 'em as is fitting: then I, and my gossip Haggise, and my beadle Pocher, are discharged. PURE. O, I thank you, blessed honest men! BRI. Nay, never thank us; but thank this madman that comes here! he put it in our heads. _Re-enter TROUBLEALL._ PURE. Is he mad? now heaven increase his madness, and bless it, and thank it.--Sir, your poor handmaid thanks you. TRO. Have you a warrant? an you have a warrant, shew it. PURE. Yes, I have a warrant out of the word, to give thanks for removing any scorn intended to the brethren. [_Exeunt all but Troubleall._ TRO. It is justice Overdo's warrant that I look for; if you have not that, keep your word, I'll keep mine. Quit ye, and multiply ye. _Enter EDGWORTH and NIGHTINGALE._ EDG. Come away, Nightingale, I pray thee.