[_Discovers Mrs. Littlewit._ LIT. O my wife, my wife, my wife! OVER. Is she your wife? _Redde te Harpocratem!_ _Enter TROUBLEALL, with a dripping-pan, followed by URSULA and NIGHTINGALE._ TRO. By your leave, stand by, my masters, be uncover'd. URS. O stay him, stay him, help to cry, Nightingale; my pan, my pan! OVER. What's the matter? NIGHT. He has stolen gammar Ursula's pan. TRO. Yes, and I fear no man but justice Overdo. OVER. Ursula! where is she? O the sow of enormity, this! welcome, stand you there; you, songster, there. URS. An't please your worship, I am in no fault: a gentleman stripped him in my booth, and borrowed his gown, and his hat; and he ran away with my goods here for it. OVER. [_to Quarlous._] Then this is the true madman, and you are the enormity! QUAR. You are in the right: I am mad but from the gown outward. OVER. Stand you there. QUAR. Where you please, sir. MRS. OVER. [_waking_] O, lend me a bason, I am sick, I am sick! where's master Overdo? Bridget, call hither my Adam. OVER. How! [_He is shamed and silenced._ WHIT. Dy very own wife, i'fait, worshipful Adam. MRS. OVER. Will not my Adam come at me? shall I see him no more then? QUAR. Sir, why do you not go on with the enormity? are you oppressed with it? I'll help you: hark you, sir, in your ear--Your innocent young man, you have ta'en such care of all this day, is a cut-purse, that hath got all your brother Cokes' things, and helped you to your beating and the stocks; if you have a mind to hang him now, and shew him your magistrate's wit, you may: but I should think it were better recovering the goods, and to save your estimation in him. I thank you, sir, for the gift of your ward, mistress Grace; look you, here is your hand and seal, by the way. Master Winwife, give you joy, you are _Palemon_, you are possessed of the gentlewoman, but she must pay me value, here's warrant for it. And, honest madman, there's thy gown and cap again; I thank thee for my wife. Nay, I can be mad, sweet-heart, [_to Mrs. Purecraft_] when I please still; never fear me; and careful Numps, where's he? I thank him for my license. WASPE. How! QUAR. 'Tis true, Numps. WASPE. I'll be hang'd then. QUAR. Look in your box, Numps.--Nay, sir, [_to Overdo._] stand not you fix'd here, like a stake in Finsbury, to be shot at, or the whipping-post in the Fair, but get your wife out o' the air, it will make her worse else; and remember you are but Adam, flesh and blood! you have your frailty, forget your other name of Overdo, and invite us all to supper. There you and I will compare our discoveries; and drown the memory of all enormity in your biggest bowl at home. COKES. How now, Numps, have you lost it? I warrant 'twas when thou wert in the stocks: Why dost not speak! WASPE. I will never speak while I live again, for aught I know.