_Nis._ And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a Justice We should be held at hard meat: for my part, I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection, I know the god incenst must send a hardness Through all good Womens hearts, and then we have Brought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market: Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration, That I might but use my conscience in mine Own house. _Dor._ The Duke he's old and past it, he would Never have brought such a plague upon the Land else, 'Tis worse than Sword and Famine: Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'd So wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd that Wou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at this Blessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to the God for endless pleasures, he heard us, And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new still As we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd, Poor men can number their woers, give us Abundance: we had it, and this curse withal. _Age._ Berlady we are like to have a long _Lent_ on't, Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had rather Have anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner. I remem[b]er once the people did but slight him In a sacrifice: and what followed? Women kept their houses, grew good huswives Honest forsooth! was not that fine? Wore their own faces, Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying, And which was most lamentable, They lov'd their Husbands. _Nis._ I do remember it to my grief, Young Maids were as cold as Cowcumbers And much of that complexion: Bawds were abolisht: and, to which misery It must come again, There were no Cuckolds, Well, we had need pray to keep these Divels from us, The times grow mischievous. There he goes, Lord! _Enter one with an Image._ This is a sacriledge I have not heard of: Would I were gelt, that I might not Feel what follows. _Age._ And I too. You shall see within these Few years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it: Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers, And set up Chastity again, well, I have done. A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessings Are hunger and hard beds. _Nis._ This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with us I believe now we shall find shorter commons. _Dor._ Would I were married, somewhat has some favour; The race of Gentry will quite run out now, 'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger Sisters Take not the greater charity, 'tis lawful. _Age._ Well, let come what will come, I am but one, and as the plague falls, I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound. If the _god_ be not too unmerciful, I'll take a little still, where I can get it, And thank him, and say nothing.