I am asham'd to feel how flat I am cheated, How grossly, and maliciously made a May-game, A damned trick; my Wife, my Wife, some Rascal: My Credit, and my Wife, some lustful Villain, Some Bawd, some Rogue. _Ars_. Some crafty Fool has found ye: This 'tis, Sir, to teach ye to be too busie, To covet all the gains, and all the rumours, To have a stirring Oare in all mens actions. _Lop_. We did this, but to vex your fine officiousness. _Bar_. Good yield ye, and good thank ye: I am fooled, Gentlemen; The Lawyer is an Ass, I do confess it, A weak dull shallow Ass: good even to your Worships: Vicar, remember Vicar, Rascal, remember, Thou notable rich Rascal. _Die_. I do remember, Sir, 'Pray ye stay a little, I have ev'n two Legacies To make your mouth up, Sir. _Bar_. Remember Varlets, Quake and remember, Rogues; I have brine for your Buttocks. [_Exit_. _Lop_. Oh how he frets, and fumes now like a Dunghil! _Die_. His gall contains fine stuff now to make poysons, Rare damned stuff. _Ars_. Let's after him, and still vex him, And take my Friend off: by this time he has prosper'd, He cannot lose this dear time: 'tis impossible. _Mil_. Well _Diego_, thou hast done. _Lop_. Hast done it daintily. _Mil_. And shalt be as well paid, Boy-- _Ars_. Go, let's crucifie him. [_Exeunt_. SCENA VI. _Enter_ Amaranta, Leandro. _Lean_. I have told ye all my story, and how desperately. _Ama_. I do believe: let's walk on, time is pretious, Not to be spent in words, here no more wooing, The open Air's an enemy to Lovers, Do as I tell ye. _Lean_. I'le do any thing, I am so over-[joy'd], I'le fly to serve ye. _Am_. Take your joy moderately, as it is ministred, And as the cause invites: that man's a fool That at the sight o'th' Bond, dances and leaps, Then is the true joy, when the mony comes. _Lean_. You cannot now deny me. _Ama_. Nay, you know not, Women have crotchets, and strange fits. _Lean_. You shall not. _Ama_. Hold ye to that and swear it confidently, Then I shall make a scruple to deny ye: 'Pray ye let's step in, and see a friend of mine, The weather's sharp: we'll stay but half an hour, We may be miss'd else: a private fine house 'tis, Sir, And we may find many good welcomes. _Lean_. Do Lady, Do happy Lady. _Ama_. All your mind's of doing, You must be modester. _Lean_. I will be any thing. [_Exeunt_. SCENA VII. _Enter_ Bartolus. _Bar_.