SUR. That are birding in men's purses. MAM. Madam suppository. KAS. Doxy, my suster. ANA. Locusts Of the foul pit. TRI. Profane as Bel and the dragon. ANA. Worse than the grasshoppers, or the lice of Egypt. LOVE. Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers, And cannot stay this violence? 1 OFFI. Keep the peace. LOVE. Gentlemen, what is the matter? whom do you seek? MAM. The chemical cozener. SUR. And the captain pander. KAS. The nun my suster. MAM. Madam Rabbi. ANA. Scorpions, And caterpillars. LOVE. Fewer at once, I pray you. 2 OFFI. One after another, gentlemen, I charge you, By virtue of my staff. ANA. They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart. LOVE. Good zeal, lie still A little while. TRI. Peace, deacon Ananias. LOVE. The house is mine here, and the doors are open; If there be any such persons as you seek for, Use your authority, search on o' God's name. I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult 'bout my door, to tell you true, It somewhat mazed me; till my man, here, fearing My more displeasure, told me he had done Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house (Belike, presuming on my known aversion From any air o' the town while there was sickness,) To a doctor and a captain: who, what they are Or where they be, he knows not. MAM. Are they gone? LOVE. You may go in and search, sir. [MAMMON, ANA., AND TRIB. GO IN.] Here, I find The empty walls worse than I left them, smoak'd, A few crack'd pots, and glasses, and a furnace: The ceiling fill'd with poesies of the candle, And madam with a dildo writ o' the walls: Only one gentlewoman, I met here, That is within, that said she was a widow-- KAS. Ay, that's my suster; I'll go thump her. Where is she? [GOES IN.] LOVE. And should have married a Spanish count, but he, When he came to't, neglected her so grossly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her. SUR. How! have I lost her then? LOVE. Were you the don, sir? Good faith, now, she does blame you extremely, and says You swore, and told her you had taken the pains To dye your beard, and umber o'er your face, Borrowed a suit, and ruff, all for her love; And then did nothing. What an oversight, And want of putting forward, sir, was this! Well fare an old harquebuzier, yet, Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, All in a twinkling! [RE-ENTER MAMMON.] MAM. The whole nest are fled! LOVE. What sort of birds were they? MAM. A kind of choughs, Or thievish daws, sir, that have pick'd my purse Of eight score and ten pounds within these five weeks, Beside my first materials; and my goods, That lie in the cellar, which I am glad they have left, I may have home yet. LOVE. Think you so, sir? MAM. Ay. LOVE. By order of law, sir, but not otherwise. MAM. Not mine own stuff!