_Oseas._ When disobedience reigneth in the child, And princes' ears by flattery be beguil'd; When laws do pass by favour, not by truth; When falsehood swarmeth both in old and youth; When gold is made a god to wrong the poor, And charity exil'd from rich men's door; When men by wit do labour to disprove The plagues for sin sent down by God above; When great men's ears are stopt to good advice, And apt to hear those tales that feed their vice; Woe to the land! for from the East shall rise A Lamb of peace, the scourge of vanities, The judge of truth, the patron of the just, Who soon will lay presumption in the dust, And give the humble poor their hearts' desire, And doom the worldlings to eternal fire: Repent, all you that hear, for fear of plagues. O London, this and more doth swarm in thee! Repent, repent, for why the Lord doth see: With trembling pray, and mend what is amiss; The sword of justice drawn already is. SCENE III.--_Within the_ Smith's _House._ _Enter_ ADAM _and the_ Smith's Wife. _Adam._ Why, but hear you, mistress: you know a woman's eyes are like a pair of pattens, fit to save shoe-leather in summer, and to keep away the cold in winter; so you may like your husband with the one eye, because you are married, and me with the other, because I am your man. Alas, alas! think, mistress, what a thing love is: why, it is like to an ostry-faggot,[99] that, once set on fire, is as hardly quenched as the bird[100] crocodile driven out of her nest. _S. Wife._ Why, Adam, cannot a woman wink but she must sleep? and can she not love but she must cry it out at the cross? Know, Adam, I love thee as myself, now that we are together in secret. _Adam._ Mistress, these words of yours are like to a fox-tail placed in a gentlewoman's fan, which, as it is light, so it giveth life: O, these words are as sweet as a lily! whereupon, offering a borachio[101] of kisses to your unseemly personage, I entertain you upon further acquaintance. _S. Wife._ Alas, my husband comes! _Adam._ Strike up the drum And say no words but mum. _Enter the_ Smith. _Smith._ Sirrah you, and you, huswife, well taken together! I have long suspected you, and now I am glad I have found you together. _Adam._ Truly, sir, and I am glad that I may do you any way pleasure, either in helping you or my mistress. _Smith._ Boy here, and knave, you shall know it straight; I will have you both before the magistrate, and there have you surely punished. _Adam._ Why, then, master, you are jealous? _Smith._ Jealous, knave! how can I be but jealous, to see you ever so familiar together? Thou art not only content to drink away my goods, but to abuse my wife. _Adam._ Two good qualities, drunkenness and lechery: but, master, are you jealous? _Smith._ Ay, knave, and thou shalt know it ere I pass, for I will beswinge thee while this rope will hold.