Lor. The Arraignment of idle, froward,
And vnconstant women.
Aur. What say you, Sir, to this?
Mis. Shew me my name, and then Ile yeeld vnto’t.
Aur. No, that’s your policie and cowardise,
You durst not publish, what you dar’d to write,
Thy man is witnesse to’t: sirrah, confesse,
Or you shall eu’n be seru’d of the same sawce.
Swash. No, no, no, no, Ile tell you all,
He is no Fencer, that’s but for a shew,