_Just._ We arrest you, sirs! all four, as ye stand in a row; Not so hardy in your hearts, our arrest to gainsay. _Avar._ Nay! we are content, if ye let us go our way. _Just._ No, not a foot! we must first your reckoning take. _Avar._ I ne'er bought nor sold with you, reckoning to make; Nor I know not who you be. _Just._ Justice is my name. _Avar._ Where is your dwelling? _Just._ In heaven; and, thence I came. _Avar._ Dwell ye in heaven and so mad to come hither? All our hucking here is how we may get thither! _Just._ I bring heaven with me, and make it where I am. _Avar._ Then I pray you let me be your prentice, Madame! I will be at your beck. _Just._ Ye shall, ere ye depart. _Avar._ I would learn how to make heaven, with all my heart. Well, as for Lady Misericordia, I remember I saw you with Respublica. _Adul._ You, if you so please, may do much good in this land; Many, at this hour, do need your good helping hand. _Avar._ And ye came down from heaven too, I judge? _Miser._ Yea, sure! _Avar._ Why, what folk are ye that cannot heaven endure? And what may I call you, lady? _Pax._ My name is Peace. _Avar._ Ye have long dwelt with us; we have been long in peace. _Peace._ Call ye it peace, sirrah! when brother and brother Cannot be content to live one by another? When one for his house, for his land, yea, for his groat, Is ready to strive and pluck out another's throat? I will in all such things make perfect union. _Avar._ Then, good-night! the lawyers gain, by Saint Tronnion! Westminster Hall might go play, if that came to pass. Faith! we must serve you with a supersedeas. _Ver._ Well! leave vain prattling, and now come answer to me. _Avar._ I must hear first what ye say, and who ye be. _Ver._ I am dame Verity. _Avar._ What? the daughter of Time? _Ver._ Yea! _Avar._ I know my master, your father, well afine. Welcome, fair lady! sweet lady, little lady, Plain lady, smooth lady, sometime spital lady; Lady Long-tongue, lady Tell-all, lady Make-bate: And, I beseech you, from whence are ye come of late? _Ver._ I am sprung out of the earth. _Avar._ What, ye do but jest! _Ver._ The book sayeth: _Veritas de terra orta est_. _Avar._ Happy is he which hath that garden plat, I trow! Out of which such fair blossoms do spring and grow; Yet this one thing, I say. _Ver._ What? _Avar._ Ye are friend to few, Pressed to open all things, and men's manner to show. _Ver._ If ye be true and just, that is your benefit.