than they
coulde drinke they grew sober, the contented Cuckold tooke his wife home
againe and all were good frends[89]. [_Sease Musicke_] But stay, the
musikes husht; I hope theyle appeare; I doe feale no such paine in my
wounds that I had need of musicke to bring me to sleepe. Blesse me whose
this? ha[90]!

_Enter Grimes disguised_.

_Grimes_. How does your worshipp? Mr. Steward, dee feele your selfe at
ease? I am hartely sorry for your misfortune?

_Lov_. Misfortune? ha, what misfortune? now heaven and't be thy will--

_Grimes_. Pray heaven they be alive.

_Lov_. Ha, alive? in the name of drinke what have I don? where did you
find me, ha?

_Grimes_. Why, sir, comming out--umh, umh--

_Lov_. Out with't, man.

_Grimes_. Out of a bad-house, sir.

_Lov_. A Bawdie house, I warrant.

_Grimes_. Yes sir.

_Lov_. Why, now its out.

_Grimes_. I, and tis well your worships out.

_Lov_. Noe, noe, it had bin better had I never gon in; but on, on.

_Grimes_. You were, sir,--as they say, sir--you had gotten a Cup to
much.

_Lov_. Hang Cupps, my friend excepted; goe to; speake plaine; I was
drunke was I?

_Grimes_. Yes, sir; you were not able to stand when you came out, sir?

_Lov_. Out of the Bawdy-house? I beleave thee; nay, I am a right
_Lovell_ I, I look like a shotten herring now for't. _Jone's_ as good
as my lady in the darke wee me. I have no more Roe than a goose in me;
but on to the mischiefe, on.

_Grimes_. You beate the Bawd downe with the Chamber dore and bade her
keepe that for the Reckoning.

_Lov_. Umh, there was witt in my drinke, I perceive; on.

_Grimes_. Then, sir, you tooke up a Spitt.

_Lov_. A Spitt?

_Grimes_. Yes, sir, and broacht one of the wenches out.

_Lov_. How?

_Grimes_. Oh, sir, you made such a hole in her bakside[91] you might
have turnd--
[_Blows his nose_.

_Lov_. What? thy nose int?

_Grimes_. Had I been there it had been at your service.

_Lov_. Thanke thee; thou shouldst have lost nothing by it.

_Grimes_. Then went Tobackoe pipes to wrack, and oh the black potts
sufferd without measure; nay, you swore (and for it paid your twelve
pence) that if you were maior youd come disguisd on purpose to
confou[nd] 'um.

_Lov_. Ist possible I could doe this?

_Grimes_. This, sir? Why you kickd one flat-nosd wench that snuffled,
and swore she was a puritan.

_Lov_. Did not I pay for that oath too?

_Grimes_. No, sir; you bid the Constable keepe