Mrs. Over. Will not my Adam come at me? shall I see him no more then?
Quar. Sir, why do you not go on with the enormity? are you oppressed with it? I’ll help you: hark you, sir, in your ear—Your innocent young man, you have ta’en such care of all this day, is a cut-purse, that hath got all your brother Cokes’ things, and helped you to your beating and the stocks; if you have a mind to hang him now, and shew him your magistrate’s wit, you may: but I should think it were better recovering the goods, and to save your estimation in him. I thank you, sir, for the gift of your ward, mistress Grace; look you, here is your hand and seal, by the way. Master Winwife, give you joy, you are Palemon, you are possessed of the gentlewoman, but she must pay me value, here’s warrant for it. And, honest madman, there’s thy gown and cap again; I thank thee for my wife. Nay, I can be mad, sweet-heart, [to Mrs. Purecraft] when I please still; never fear me; and careful Numps, where’s he? I thank him for my license.
Waspe. How!
Quar. ’Tis true, Numps.
Waspe. I’ll be hang’d then.
Quar. Look in your box, Numps.—Nay, sir, [to Overdo.] stand not you fix’d here, like a stake in Finsbury, to be shot at, or the whipping-post in the Fair, but get your wife out o’ the air, it will make her worse else; and remember you are but Adam, flesh and blood! you have your frailty, forget your other name of Overdo, and invite us all to supper. There you and I will compare our discoveries; and drown the memory of all enormity in your biggest bowl at home.
Cokes. How now, Numps, have you lost it? I warrant ’twas when thou wert in the stocks: Why dost not speak!
Waspe. I will never speak while I live again, for aught I know.
Over. Nay, Humphrey, if I be patient, you must be so too; this pleasant conceited gentleman hath wrought upon my judgment, and prevail’d: I pray you take care of your sick friend, mistress Alice, and my good friends all—
Quar. And no enormities.