But he, in lieu of making just Returns,
Reviles our Family, profanes our Name,
And will in time render it far more odious
Than ever [Needham] made the great Heroicks.
L. Lam. Alas, it weeps, poor Woman!
Crom. Thou ly’st, false Strumpet, I scorn to shed a Tear,
For ought that thou canst do or say to me;
I’ve too much of my Husband’s Spirit in me.
Oh, my dear Richard, hadst thou had a Grain on’t,
Thou and thy Mother ne’er had fall’n to this.