Grace. See, here’s our madman again.
Enter QUARLOUS, in TROUBLEALL’S clothes, followed by Dame PURECRAFT.
Quar. I have made myself as like him, as his gown and cap will give me leave.
Pure. Sir, I love you, and would be glad to be mad with you in truth.
Winw. How! my widow in love with a madman?
Pure. Verily, I can be as mad in spirit as you.
Quar. By whose warrant? leave your canting. Gentlewoman, have I found you? [To mistress Grace.] save ye, quit ye, and multiply ye! Where’s your book? ’twas a sufficient name I mark’d, let me see’t, be not afraid to shew’t me.
Grace. What would you with it, sir?
Quar. Mark it again and again at your service.