Bar. A rare cure Lady,
And one as fit for him as a Thief for a halter,
You see this youth: will you not cry him quittance,
Body 'me, I would pine, but I would pepper him,
I'll come anon, he, hang him, poor pompillion:
How like a wench bepist he looks, I'll come Lady;
Lopez, The Law must teach ye what a wife is,
A good, a virtuous wife.
Isab. I'll ne'r live with him,
I crave your loves all to make known my cause,
That so a fair Divorce may pass between us,
I am weary of my life: in danger hourly.
Bar. You see how rude you are, I will not miss ye,
Unsufferable rude: I'll pay him soundly,
You should be whipt in Bedlam: I'll reward him.
2 Gentlew. Whipping's too good.
Lop. I think I am alive still,
And in my wits.
Bar. I'll put a trick upon him,
And get his goods confiscate: you shall have 'em;
I will not fail at nine.
Lop. I think I am here too,
And once I would have sworn I had taken her napping,
I think my name is Lopez.
Gent. Fie for shame, Sir,
You see you have abus'd her, fouly wrong'd her,
Hung scandalous and course opinions on her,
Which now you find but children of suspition:
Ask her forgiveness, shew a penitence,
She is my kinswoman, and what she suffers
Under so base and beastly jealousies,
I will redress else, I'll seek satisfaction.
Bar. Why, every boy i' th' Town will piss upon thee.
Lop. I am sorry for't.