2nd Luce. Here, wise-woman, you are out again: I shall want what a good boy should have, whilst I live.--Well, here I shall live both unknown, and my sex unsuspected. But whom have we here? _Enter_ Haringfield, _and_ Young Chartley _half drunk_. Young Chartley. Come, Haringfield, now we have been drinking of Mother Red-cap’s ale, let us now go make some sport with the wise-woman. Haringfield. We shall be thought very wise men of all such as shall see us go in to the wise-woman’s. Young Chartley. See, here she is. How now, witch! How now, hag! How now, beldam! You are the wise-woman, are you? and have wit to keep yourself warm enough, I warrant you. Wise-woman. Out, thou knave! 2nd Luce. And will these wild oats never be sown? [_Aside_. Young Chartley. You enchantress, sorceress, she-devil! you Madam Hecate, Lady Proserpine! you are too old, you hag, now, for conjuring up spirits yourself; but you keep pretty young witches under your roof, that can do that. Wise-woman. I or my family conjure up any spirits! I defy thee, thou young hare-brained-- Haringfield. Forbear him till he have his senses about him, and I shall then hold thee for a wise-woman indeed: otherwise, I shall doubt thou hast thy name for nothing. Come, friend, away, if thou lovest me. Young Chartley. Away, you old dromedary! I’ll come one of these nights, and make a racket amongst your she-caterwaulers. Haringfield. I prithee let’s be civil. Young Chartley. Out of my sight, thou she-mastiff! [_Exeunt_ Young Chartley _and_ Haringfield. 2nd Luce. Patience, sweet mistress. Wise-woman. Now, bless me, he hath put me into such a fear, as makes all my bones to dance and rattle in my skin: I’ll be revenged on that swaggering companion. 2nd Luce. Mistress, I wish you would; he’s a mere mad-cap, and all his delight is in misusing such reverend matrons as yourself. Wise-woman. Well, what’s thy name, boy? 2nd Luce. I am even little better than a turnbroach, for my name is Jack. Wise-woman. Honest Jack, if thou couldst but devise how I might cry quittance with this cutting Dick[4.18] I will go near to adopt thee my son and heir. 2nd Luce. Mistress, there is a way, and this it is: To-morrow morning doth this gentleman Intend to marry with one Mistress Luce, A goldsmith’s daughter; do you know the maid? Wise-woman. My daughter, and a pretty smug-faced girl. I had a note but late from her, and she means to be with me in the evening: for I have bespoke Sir Boniface to marry her in the morning. 2nd Luce. Do but prevent this gallant of his wife, And then your wrongs shall be revenged at full. Wise-woman. I’ll do’t, as I am matron; ay, and show him a new trick for his learning. _Enter_ Boyster. Boyster. Morrow. Wise-woman. You’re welcome, sir. Boyster. Art wise? 2nd Luce. He should be wise, because he speaks few words.