Actus Tertius.
Enter Lady, Wildbraine, Women, Toby.
La. THou art the most unfortunate fellow.
Wild. Why Aunt what have I done?
La. The most malicious varlet,
Thy wicked head never at rest, but hammering,
And ha[t]ching hellish things, and to no purpose,
So thou mayst have thy base will.
Wi. Why do you rail thus?
Cannot a scurvy accident fall out,
But I must be at one end on't?
La. Thou art at both ends.
Wi. Cannot young sullen wenches play the fools
And marry, and dye, but I must be the agent?
All that I did (and if that be an injury,
Let the world judge it) was but to perswade her,
And (as I take it) I was bound to it too,
To make the reverend coxcombe her husband Cuckold:
What else could I advise her? was there harm i'this?
You are of years, and have run through experience,
Would you be content if you were young again,
To have a continual cough grow to your pillow?
A rottenness, that vaults are perfumes to;
Hang in your roof, and like a fog infect you?
Anointed hammes, to keep his hinges turning,
Reek ever in your nose, and twenty night caps,
With twenty several sweats?