_Accut_. I dare not.

_Cor_. I sir, but afterward may come after claps. I know the world well
enough.

_Accut_. Mischiefe of the Devill, be man, not all beast, do not
lye,----both sheetes doe not.

_Cit. w_. I warrant this fellow has as many eies as a Lamprey, hee could
never see so farre into the world else.

_Accu_. And thou pure asse, meere asse, thy eares become thee well,
yfaith.

_Scil_. I think you merit to make a Musition of me, you furnish me with
a good eare.

_Accut_. Thou deservdst it, thou't make thy self a Cucckold, be it but
for company sake; thou hast long eares, and thinkest them hornes, thy
onceites cuckolds thee, thou art jealious if thou seest thy wives ----
with another mans palme. And foole, thy state in that sense is the best;
thou art claspt with simplicitie, (a great badge of honestie,) for the
poore foole has pawnd her cloathes to redeeme thy unthriftines; be
jealious no more unlesse thou weare thine eares still, for all shall be
well, and you shall have your puppie againe.

_Get_. Shall I? by my troth, I shall be beholding to you then.

_Acu_. Now to ye all, be firmaments to stars,
Be stars to Firmaments, and, as you are
Splendent, so be fixed, not wandering, nor
Irregular, both keeping course together.
Shine not in pride and gorgeous attire,
When clouds doe faile the pole where thou art fixt.
Obey, cherish, honor, be kinde enough,
But let them weare no changeable stuffe;
Keepe them, as shall become your state,
Comely, and to creepe ere they goe.
Let them partake your joyes and weep with you,
Curle not the snarles that dwell upon these browes.
In all things be you kinde: of all enough,
But let them weare no changeable stuffe.

_Host_. Fore God a mad spirit.

_Hostis_. Will ye beeleeve what such a bisket brain'd fellow as this
saies? he has a mouth like a double cannon, the report will be heard all
ore the towne.

_Cittie wife_. I warrant he ranne mad for love, because no good face
could indure the sight of him, and ever since he railes against women
like a whot-shot.

_Len_. Nay, nay, we must have all friendes,
Jarring discords are no marriage musick;
Throw not Hymen in a cuckstoole; dimple
Your furrowed browes; since all but mirth was ment,
Let us not then conclude in discontent,
Say, shall we all
In friendly straine measure our paces to bed-ward?

_Tul_. Will _Terentia_ follow?

_Teren_. If _Tully_ be her Leader.

_Host_. Good bloods, good spirits, let me answe