grandmother's, profecto.

MRS. OTT: O treacherous liar! kiss me, sweet master Truewit, and
prove him a slandering knave.

TRUE: I will rather believe you, lady.

OTT: And she has a peruke that's like a pound of hemp, made up in
shoe-threads.

MRS. OTT: O viper, mandrake!

OTT: A most vile face! and yet she spends me forty pound a year
in mercury and hogs-bones. All her teeth were made in the
Black-Friars, both her eyebrows in the Strand, and her hair in
Silver-street. Every part of the town owns a piece of her.

MRS. OTT [COMES FORWARD.]: I cannot hold.

OTT: She takes herself asunder still when she goes to bed, into
some twenty boxes; and about next day noon is put together again,
like a great German clock: and so comes forth, and rings a tedious
larum to the whole house, and then is quiet again for an hour,
but for her quarters. Have you done me right, gentlemen?

MRS. OTT [FALLS UPON HIM, AND BEATS HIM.]: No, sir, I will do you
right with my quarters, with my quarters.

OTT: O, hold, good princess.

TRUE: Sound, sound!

[DRUM AND TRUMPETS SOUND.]

CLER: A battle, a battle!

MRS. OTT: You notorious stinkardly bearward, does my breath smell?

OTT: Under correction, dear princess: look to my bear, and my
horse, gentlemen.

MRS. OTT: Do I want teeth, and eyebrows, thou bull-dog?

TRUE: Sound, sound still.

[THEY SOUND AGAIN.]

OTT: No, I protest, under correction--

MRS. OTT: Ay, now you are under correction, you protest: but you
did not protest before correction, sir. Thou Judas, to offer to
betray thy princess! I will make thee an example--
[BEATS HIM.]

[ENTER MOROSE WITH HIS LONG SWORD.]

MOR: I will have no such examples in my house, lady Otter.

MRS. OTT: Ah!--

[MRS. OTTER, DAW, AND LA-FOOLE RUN OFF.]

OTT: Mistress Mary Ambree, your examples are dangerous. Rogues,
hell-hounds, Stentors! out of my doors, you sons of noise and
tumult, begot on an ill May-day, or when the galley-foist is
afloat to Westminster!
[DRIVES OUT THE MUSICIANS.]
A trumpeter could not be conceived but then!

DAUP: What ails you, sir?

MOR: They have rent my roof, walls, and all my windows asunder,
with their brazen throats.
[EXIT.]

TRUE: Best follow him, Dauphine.

DAUP: So I will.
[EXIT.]

CLER: Where's Daw and La-Foole?

OTT: They are both r