_Dio._ It akes and troubles thee, and that makes thee angry. _Max._ Not at the pain, but at the practice, Uncle, The butcherly, base custom of our lives now; Had a brave enemies Sword drawn so much from me, Or danger met me in the head o'th' Army, To have blush'd thus in my blood, had been mine honour. But to live base, like Swine-herds, and believe too, To be fool'd out with tales, and old wives dreams, Dreams, when they are drunk. _Dio._ Certain you much mistake her. _Max._ Mistake her? hang her; to be made her Purveyors, To feed her old Chaps; to provide her daily, And bring in Feasts while she sits farting at us, And blowing out her Prophecies at both ends. _Dio._ Prithee be wise; Dost thou think, _Maximinian_, So great a reverence, and so stai'd a knowledge-- _Max._ Sur-reverence, you would say; what truth? what knowledg? What any thing but eating is good in her? 'Twould make a fool prophesie to be fed continually; What do you get? your labour and your danger; Whilst she sits bathing in her larded fury, Inspir'd with full deep Cups, who cannot prophesie? A Tinker, out of Ale, will give Predictions; But who believes? _Dio._ She is a holy _Druid_, A woman noted for that faith, that piety, Belov'd of Heaven. _Max._ Heaven knows, I do not believe it: Indeed I must confess they are excellent Juglers; Their age upon some fools too flings a confidence: But what grounds have they? what elements to work on: Show me but that; the Sieve, and Sheers? a learned one, I have no patience to dispute this Question, 'Tis so ridiculous; I think the Devil does help 'em, Or (rather mark me well) abuse 'em, Uncle; For they are as fit to deal with him; these old women, They are as jump, and squar'd out to his nature-- _Dio._ Thou hast a perfect malice. _Max._ So I would have Against these purblind Prophets; for look ye, Sir, Old women will lie monstrously; so will the Devil, Or else he has had much wrong; upon my knowledge, Old women are malicious; so is he; They are proud and covetous, revengeful, lecherous; All which are excellent attributes of the Devil; They would at least seem holy; so would he; And to vail over these villainies, they would prophesie; He gives them leave now and then to use their cunnings, Which is, to kill a Cow, or blast a Harvest, Make young Pigs pipe themselves to death, choak poultry, And chase a dairy-wench into a feaver With pumping for her butter. But when he makes these Agents to raise Emperours, When he disposes Fortune as his Servant, And tyes her to old wives tails-- _Dio._ Go thy ways, Thou art a learned Scholar, against credit, You hear the Prophecie?