Open the doors, and give me room to chafe in Mine own room, and my liberty: why Maid there, Open I say, and do not anger me, I am subject to much fury: when, ye Dish-clout? When do ye come? asleep ye lazie Hell-hound? Nothing intended, but your ease, and eating? No body here? why Wife, why Wife? why Jewel? No tongue to answer me? pre'thee, good Pupil, Dispense a little with thy careful study, And step to th' door, and let me in; nor he neither? Ha! not at's study? nor asleep? nor no body? I'le make ye hear: the house of ignorance, No sound inhabits here: I have a Key yet That commands all: I fear I am Metamorphiz'd. _Enter_ Lopez, Arsenio, Milanes, Diego. _Lop_. He keeps his fury still, and may do mischief. _Mil_. He shall be hang'd first, we'll be sticklers there, boys. _Die_. The hundred thousand Dreams now, that possess him Of jealousie, and of revenge, and frailtie, Of drawing Bills against us, and Petitions. _Lop_. And casting what his credit shall recover. _Mil_. Let him cast till his Maw come up, we care not. You shall be still secured. [_A great noise within_. _Die_. We'll pay him home then; Hark what a noise he keeps within! _Lop_. Certain H'as set his Chimneys o' fire, or the Devil roars there. _Die_. The Codixes o'th' Law are broke loose, Gentlemen. _Ars_. He's fighting sure. _Die_. I'le tell ye that immediately-- [_Exit_. _Mil_. Or doing some strange out-rage on himself. _Ars_. Hang him, he dares not be so valiant. _Enter_ Diego. _Die_. There's no body at home, and he chafes like a Lyon, And stinks withal. [_Noise still_. _Lop_. No body? _Die_. Not a Creature, Nothing within, but he and his Law-tempest, The Ladles, Dishes, Kettles, how they flie all! And how the Glasses through the Rooms! _Enter_ Bartolus. _Ars_. My friend sure Has got her out, and now he has made an end on't. _Lop_. See where the Sea comes? how it foams, and brustles? The great Leviathan o'th' Law, how it tumbles? _Bar_. Made every way an Ass? abus'd on all sides? And from all quarters, people come to laugh at me? Rise like a Comet, to be wonder'd at? A horrid Comet, for Boys tongues, and Ballads? I will run from my wits. _Enter_ Amaranta, Leandro. _Ars_. Do, do, good Lawyer, And from thy mony too, then thou wilt be quiet. _Mil_. Here she comes home: now mark the salutations; How like an Ass my friend goes? _Ars_. She has pull'd his ears down. _Bar_. Now, what sweet voyage? to what Garden, Lady? Or to what Cousins house? _Ama_.