_Dor._ Now out upon thee Monster. _Tom._ Still hoping of your pardon. _Seb._ There needs none man: A straw on pardon: prethee need no pardon: I'le aske no more, nor think no more of marriage, For o' my conscience I shall be thy Cuckold: There's some good yet left in him: bear your self well, You may recover me, there's twenty pound Sir, I see some sparkles which may flame again, You may eat with me when you please, you know me. [_Exit_ Seb. _Dor._ Why do you lye so damnably, so foolishly? _Tom._ Do'st thou long to have thy head broke? hold thy peace And do as I would have thee, or by this hand I'le kill thy Parrat, hang up thy small hand, And drink away thy dowry to a penny. _Dor._ Was ever such a wilde Asse? _Tom._ Prethee be quiet. _Dor._ And do'st thou think men will not beat thee monstrously For abusing their wives and children? _Tom._ And do'st thou think Mens wives and children can be abus'd too much? _Dor._ I wonder at thee. _Tom._ Nay, thou shalt adjure me Before I have done. _Dor._ How stand ye with your mistress? _Tom._ I shall stand nearer E're I be twelve hours older: there's my business, She is monstrous subtile _Dol_. _Dol._ The Devil I think Cannot out-subtile thee. _Tom._ If he play fair play, Come, you must help me presently. _Dor._ I discard ye. _Tom._ Thou shalt not sleep nor eat. _Dor._ I'le no hand with ye, No bawd to your abuses. _Tom._ By this light _Dol_, Nothing but in the way of honesty. _Dor._ Thou never knew'st that road: I hear your vigils. _Tom._ Sweet honey _Dol_, if I do not marry her, Honestly marry her, if I mean not honourably, Come, thou shalt help me, take heed how you vex me, I'le help thee to a husband too, a fine Gentleman, I know thou art mad, a tall young man, a brown man, I swear he has his maidenhead, a rich man. _Dor._ You may come in to dinner, and I'le answer ye. _Tom._ Nay I'le go with thee _Dol_: four hundred a year wench. [_Exeunt_. SCENE III. _Enter_ Michael, _and_ Valentine. _Mich._ Good Sir go back again, and take my counsel, Sores are not cur'd by sorrows, nor time broke from us, Pull'd back again by sighs. _Val._ What should I do friend? _Mich._ Do that that may redeem ye, go back quickly, _Sebastians_ Daughter can prevail much with her, The Abbess is her Aunt too. _Val._ But my friend then Whose love and loss is equal ty'd. _Mich._ Content ye, That shall be my task if he be alive, Or where my travel and my care may reach him, I'le bring him back again. _Val._ Say he come back To piece his poor friends life out? and my Mistress Be vow'd for ever a recluse?