SCENE II.

_Enter +Bannswright+._

+Aur.+ O Master Bannswright, are you come! My woman Was in her preaching fit: she only wanted A table's end.

+Ban.+ Why, what's the matter?

+Aur.+ Never Poor lady had so much unbred holiness About her person; I am never dress'd Without a sermon; but am forc'd to prove The lawfulness of curling-irons, before She'll crisp me in a morning. I must show Text for the fashions of my gowns. She'll ask Where jewels are commanded? or what lady I' th' primitive times wore ropes of pearl or rubies? She will urge councils for her little ruff, Call'd in Northamptonshire;[196] and her whole service Is a mere confutation of my clothes.

+Ban.+ Why, madam, I assure you, time hath been, However she be otherwise, when she had A good quick wit, and would have made to a lady A serviceable sinner.

+Aur.+ She can't preserve The gift, for which I took her; but, as though She were inspir'd from Ipswich,[197] she will make The _Acts and Monuments_ in sweetmeats, quinces Arraign'd and burnt at a stake: all my banquets Are persecutions; Dioclesian's days Are brought for entertainment, and we eat martyrs.

+Ban.+ Madam, she is far gone.

+Aur.+ Nay, sir, she is a Puritan at her needle too.

+Ban.+ Indeed!

+Aur.+ She works religious petticoats;[198] for flowers She'll make church-histories. Her needle doth So sanctify my cushionets; besides, My smock-sleeves have such holy embroideries, And are so learned, that I fear in time All my apparel will be quoted by Some pure instructor.[199] Yesterday I went To see a lady that has a parrot: my woman, While I was in discourse, converted the fowl; And now it can speak nought but Knox's works;[200] So there's a parrot lost.

+Ban.+ Faith, madam, she Was earnest to come to you. Had I known Her mistress had so bred her, I would first Have preferred her to New England.[201]

+Dor.+ Surely, sir, You promised me, when you did take my money, To help me to a faithful service, a lady That would be saved, not one that loves profane, Unsanctified fashions.

+Aur.+ Fly my sight, You goody Hofman,[202] and keep your chamber, till You can provide yourself some cure, or I Will forthwith excommunicate your zeal, And make you a silent waiting-woman.

+Ban.+ Mistress Dorcas, If you'll be usher to that holy, learned woman That can heal broken shins, scald heads and th' itch, Your schoolmistress; that can expound, and teaches To knit in Chaldee, and work Hebrew samplers, I'll help you back again.

+Dor.+ The motion, sure, is good, And I will ponder of it. [_Exit +Dorcas+._

+Aur.+ From thy zeal, The frantic ladies' judgments, and Histriomastix,[203] Deliver me! This was of your preferring; You must needs help me to another.

+Ban.+ How Would you desire her qualified? deformed And crooked? like some ladies who do wear Their women like black patches, to set them off?

+Aur.+ I need no foil, nor shall I think I'm white Only between two Moors; or that my nose Stands wrong, because my woman's doth stand right.

+Ban.+ But you would have her secret, able to keep Strange sights from th' knowledge of your knight, when you Are married, madam; of a quick-feigning head?

+Aur.+ You wrong me, Bannswright: she whom I would have Must to her handsome shape have virtue too.

+Ban.+ Well, madam, I shall fit you. I do know A choleric lady which, within these three weeks, Has, for not cutting her corns well, put off Three women; and is now about to part With the fourth--just one of your description. Next change o' th' moon or weather, when her feet Do ache again, I do believe I shall Pleasure your ladyship.

+Aur.+ Expect your reward. [_Exit +Bannswright+._