bee knowne shortelye as their Signes; still
in one weather-beaten suite, as though none weare hoodes but Monkes and
Ladies, and feathers but fore-horses and Waiting Gentlewomen, or chaines
but prisoners and Courtiers; no Perywigges but Players and Pictures: but
the weakest must to the wall still.

_Host_. Tush, tush, these are toies; ile none of these Flipflaps, ile
have no soping, no puffs, nor no Cobwebs, no busks, nor bumbarrels;[243]
thou shalt weare thine own haire & fine cloath of Sheep-skins, thy
colour shall be Dowlas as white as a Lillie, ile kisse these
chop-cheries; thou shalt goe Gossip at Shrovetide; look about to my
Guests then. [_Exit_.

_Hostis_. I, twas my hard fortune to be an Hostesse; time was I might
have done other wise.

_Enter Cittizens Wife_.

_City W_. Why how now, woman, a'th olde disease still? will it never be
better? cannot a Woman finde one kinde man amongst twentie? Ah the daies
I have seen, when a Womans will was a lawe: If I had a mind to such a
thing, or such a thing, I could have had it, but twa's never better
since men were Purse-bearers.

_Hosty_. Mine is een the unnaturallist man to his Wife.

_Citie wi_. Truely, and commonly are all such fat men: ile tell thee,
Gossip, I have buried sixe, I, sixe husbands, but if I should live to
have as many more, as I know not what may happen, but sure Ide never
have such a fatte man: they be the most unweldey men; that woman[244]
shall not want a sore stomack, that's troubled with them I warrant her.

_Hosty_. And hee maintaines me heare like I knowe not what.

_City wi_. I, and what say, they are their wives head; well if he be the
head, shee's the body, and the body is to beare the head, and the body
is to beare the pursse.

_Hostis_. They cannot misse us, yet they regard us not.

_Citty wife_. Misse us! no faith, but would all women were of my minde,
they call us weaker vessels, they should finde vessels of us, but no
weake vessels, I warrant them.

_Enter[245] Prentice_.

_Pren_. Mistris, my Maister cals for ye.

_Hostis_. Goe, ile come anon, hees not so hastie to give me what I want,
I warrant ye.

[_Exit[245] Prentice_.

_City w_. No, would he were; little thinkes the husband what goes
through the wives hand, washing, wringing, and rubbing, up early, down
late, & a thousand things they looke not too.

_Hostis_. And yet they must have the government of all.

_City w_. And great reason they