im.

CHURMS.
Now, by the substance of my soul, 'tis an excellent device. Well, let's
in. I'll first try my cunning otherwise, and if all fail, we'll try this
conclusion.
[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ MOTHER MIDNIGHT, NURSE, _and_ PEG.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
Y'faith, Marget, you must e'en take your daughter Peg home again, for
she'll not be ruled by me.

NURSE.
Why, mother, what will she not do?

MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
Faith, she neither did, nor does, nor will do anything. Send her to the
market with eggs, she'll sell them, and spend the money. Send her to
make a pudding, she'll put in no suet. She'll run out o' nights
a-dancing, and come no more home till day-peep. Bid her come to bed,
she'll come when she list. Ah, 'tis a nasty shame to see her
bringing-up.

NURSE.
Out, you rogue! you arrant, &c. What, knowest not thy granam?

PEG.
I know her to be a testy old fool; She's never well, but grunting in a
corner.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
Nay, she'll camp, I warrant ye. O, she has a tongue! But, Marget, e'en
take her home to your mistress, and there keep her, for I'll keep her no
longer.

NURSE.
Mother, pray ye, take ye some pains with her, and keep her awhile
longer, and if she do not mend, I'll beat her black and blue. I' faith,
I'll not fail you, minion.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
Faith, at thy request, I'll take her home, and try her a week longer.

NURSE.
Come on, huswife; please your granam, and be a good wench, and you shall
ha' my blessing.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT.
Come, follow us, good wench.

[_Exeunt_ MOTHER MIDNIGHT _and_ NURSE. _Manet_ PEG.

PEG.
Ay, farewell; fair weather after you. Your blessing, quotha? I'll not
give a single halfpenny for't. Who would live under a mother's nose and
a granam's tongue? A maid cannot love, or catch a lip-clip or a
lap-clap, but here's such tittle-tattle, and _Do not so_, and _Be not so
light_, and _Be not so fond_, and _Do not kiss_, and _Do not love_, and
I cannot tell what; and I must love, an I hang for't.

[_She sings_.

_A sweet thing is love,
That rules both heart and mind:
There is no comfort in the world
To women that are kind_.

Well. I'll not stay with her; stay, quotha? To be yawled and jawled at,
and tumbled and thumbled, and tossed and turned, as I am by an old hag,
I will not: no, I will not, i' faith.

_Enter_ WILL CRICKET.

But stay, I must put on my smirking looks and smiling countenance, for
here