Lor. Hellish Fiend,
How dar’st thou vtter such blasphemous words,
In the contempt of Women, whose deserts
Thy dunghill basenesse neuer could discerne?
Assure thy selfe, thy malice shall be plagu’d
Seuerely, as in iustice thou deseru’st.
Mis. I wey not your threats this; spit out your poysons,
Till your gals doe burst, I will oppose you all;
I cannot flatter, I: nor will I fawne
To gaine a fauor; Prayse the hand and foot,