_John._ There thou hitst it, _Frederick_: Come, let's walk in and comfort her: her being here Is nothing yet suspected: anon I'le tell thee Wherefore her Brother came, who by this light Is a brave noble fellow, and what honour H'as done to me a stranger: there be Irons Heating for some, will hiss into their heart blouds, E're all be ended; so much for this time. _Fred._ Well Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Tertius. Scena Prima._ _Enter Land-lady, and_ Peter. _Land._ Come, ye do know. _Pet._ I do not by this hand Mistris. But I suspect. _Land._ What? _Peter._ That if egges continue At this price, women will ne're be sav'd By their good works. _Land._ I will know. _Peter._ Ye shall, any thing Lyes in my power: The Duke of _Loraine_ now Is seven thousand strong: I heard it of a fish-wife, A woman of fine knowledge. _Land._ Sirrah, Sirrah. _Pet._ The Popes Bulls are broke loose too, and 'tis suspected They shall be baited in _England_. _Land._ Very well Sir. _Peter._ No, 'tis not so well neither. _Land._ But I say to ye, Who is it keeps your Master company? _Peter._ I say to you, _Don John_. _Land._ I say what woman? _Peter._ I say so too. _Land._ I say again, I will know. _Peter._ I say 'tis fit ye should. _Land._ And I tell thee He has a woman here. _Peter._ And I tell thee 'Tis then the better for him. _Land._ You are no Bawd now? _Peter._ Would I were able to be call'd unto it: A worshipfull vocation for my elders; For as I understand it is a place Fitting my betters far. _Land._ Was ever Gentlewoman So frumpt off with a fool? well sawcy Sirrah, I will know who it is, and for what purpose; I pay the rent, and I will know how my house Comes by these Inflammations: if this geer hold, Best hang a sign-post up, to tell the Signiors, Here ye may have lewdness at Liverie. _Enter_ Frederick. _Peter._ 'Twould be a great ease to your age. _Fred._ How now? Why what's the matter Land-lady? _Land._ What's the matter? Ye use me decently among ye Gentlemen. _Fred._ Who has abus'd her, you Sir? _Land._ 'Ods my witness I will not be thus treated, that I will not. _Peter._ I gave her no ill language. _Land._ Thou lyest lewdly, Thou tookst me up at every word I spoke, As I had been a Mawkin, a flurt Gillian; And thou thinkst, because thou canst write and read, Our noses must be under thee. _Fred._ Dare you Sirrah? _Pet._ Let but the truth be known Sir, I beseech ye, She raves of wenches, and I know not what Sir. _Lan._ Go to, thou know'st too well, thou wicked varlet, Thou instrument of evil. _Peter._ As I live Sir, She is ever thus till dinner.