BIA. Alas, brother, what would you have me to do? I cannot help it; you see, my brother Prospero he brings them in here, they are his friends. GIU. His friends? his friends? 'sblood, they do nothing but haunt him up and down like a sort of unlucky sprites, and tempt him to all manner of villainy that can be thought of; well, by this light, a little thing would make me play the devil with some of them; an't were not more for your husband's sake than any thing else, I'd make the house too hot for them; they should say and swear, hell were broken loose, ere they went. But by God's bread, 'tis nobody's fault but yours; for an you had done as you might have done, they should have been damn'd ere they should have come in, e'er a one of them. BIA. God's my life; did you ever hear the like? what a strange man is this! could I keep out all them, think you? I should put myself against half a dozen men, should I? Good faith, you'd mad the patient'st body in the world, to hear you talk so, without any sense or reason. [ENTER MATHEO WITH HESPERIDA, BOBADILLA, STEPHANO, LORENZO JUNIOR, PROSPERO, MUSCO.] HESP. Servant, (in troth) you are too prodigal of your wits' treasure, thus to pour it forth upon so mean a subject as my worth. MAT. You say well, you say well. GIU. Hoyday, here is stuff. LOR. JU. Oh now stand close; pray God she can get him to read it. PROS. Tut, fear not: I warrant thee he will do it of himself with much impudency. HES. Servant, what is that same, I pray you? MAT. Marry, an Elegy, an Elegy, an odd toy. GIU. Ay, to mock an ape withal. O Jesu. BIA. Sister, I pray you let's hear it. MAT. Mistress, I'll read it, if you please. HES. I pray you do, servant. GIU. Oh, here's no foppery. 'Sblood, it frets me to the gall to think on it. [EXIT.] PROS. Oh ay, it is his condition, peace: we are fairly rid of him. MAT. Faith, I did it in an humour: I know not how it is, but please you come near, signior: this gentleman hath judgment, he knows how to censure of a -- I pray you, sir, you can judge. STEP. Not I, sir: as I have a soul to be saved, as I am a gentleman. LOR. JU. Nay, it's well; so long as he doth not forswear himself. BOB. Signior, you abuse the excellency of your mistress and her fair sister. Fie, while you live avoid this prolixity. MAT. I shall, sir; well, incipere dulce. LOR. JU. How, incipere dulce? a sweet thing to be a fool indeed. PROS. What, do you take incipere in that sense? LOR. JU. You do not, you? 'Sblood, this was your villainy to gull him with a motte. PROS. Oh, the benchers' phrase: pauca verba, pauca verba.