La.  But is this serious? are you hurt indeed?

Fra.  Hurt?  I ha broke my shoulder feelingly,
And I am of opinion when I doe
Enjoy you, Madam, I shall breake my neck;
That will be next.  Ile take this for a warning
And will leave of in tyme.

La.  This makes me tremble.

Fra.  I will be honest now; and so forgive me.  Not the Surgeon come yet?

La.  Heaven hath cur’d us both.

Fra.  I am not cured yet.  Oh for the bone setter!  If ere I counterfeit agen.

La.  There is a blessing falne upon my blood. 
Your only charme had power to make my thoughts
Wicked, and your conversion disinchants me;
May both our lives be such as heaven may not
Grieve to have shew’d this bounty.

    Enter Courtwell.

Cou.  Sir Richard, Madam.

La.  You may enter now, sir.

    Enter the rest and Sir Richard.

Ri.  I do not like this stratageme; Sir Francis
Must not heere practise his Court tricks; I wo’not
    Enter Surgeon. 
Trust my wives surgerie.  Hee’s come.—­How ist,
Noble Sir Francis?  Best withdraw; ile see
Him drest my selfe. [They lead out Sir Francis.

    Enter Underwit, Dorothy, Captaine, Thomas.

Un.  Madam and gentlemen, Mistris Dorothy wo’not acknowledge she is a knight’s daughter; she sweares she knows no Littleland.

Do.  Till it appeare to whom this gemme was meant, Deare Madame, be you treasurer.  I confesse I have wealth enough in such a noble husband.

La.  It shall belong to thee; be honest, Dorothy, And use him well.

Do.  With my best study, Madam.

La.  Where is the footman you talke of?

Tho.  He pretended Letters to carry two mile of to a kinsman of his Masters, and returne presently.  He dranke three or fower beere glasses of sack, and he ran away so lightlie.

Do.  His reward shall overtake him.

Un.  Will you have her? she will doe you service, Captaine, in a Low Country[279] Leaguer.  Or thou, Thomas? ile give thee a Coppiehold.

Tho.  You have one life to come in that lease, yet I thank you:  I am free, and that’s inheritance; for ought I know she may serve us both.

La.  Come you may perswade her to looke high and take it upon her for your credit.  The gullery is yet within these walles; let your shame goe no farther.  The wench may prove right, she may.

    Enter Sir Richard.

La.  What news from Sir Francis?

Ri.  Wife, I hardly aske thee forgivenes; I had jealous thoughts, but all’s right agen.

La.  I will deserve your confidence.