Lod. Sure the world is mad,
Sirrah, did you not bring me this ring from your Lady?
Fath. Yes surely Sir, did I, but your worship must ev'n bear with me;
For there was a mistaking in it, and so, as I was
Saying to your worship, my Lady is now married.
Lod. Married? to whom?
Fa. To your worships friend Piso.
Lod. S'death to Piso?
Piso within. Ha, ha, ha.
Ang. Yes Sir I can assure you she's married to him, I saw't
With these gray eyes.
Lod. Why what a Rogue art thou then! thou hast made
Me send in provision too.
Fa. O a Gentleman should not have such foul words in's mouth.
But your Worships provision could not have come in at a fitter time;
Will it please you to tast any of your own wine?
It may be the Vintner has cozen'd you.
Lod. Pox I am mad.