Wife. Good night, I am provided for you, my fine youth. [Exit.
Enter Mother, beating Viola, Alexander with a broken Glass.
Mother. I'll make thee have more care.
Viola. Good Mistriss pardon me.
Moth. Thou'lt ne'r be good I warrant thee, can your fine fingers hold no faster?
Viola. Indeed it was against my will.
Moth. Alexander, let's see the glass, as I am true kirsome woman, it is one of the chrystal glasses my Cosin sent me, and the baggage hath broke it where it cannot be mended, Alexander, can Humphrey mend this think you?
Alex. No truly, this will ne'er be mended.
Vio. Truly I meant but to wash it for the Gentlewoman that is sick above, and shaking out the water, knockt it against the pail side.
Moth. Did you so? be sure I'll stop it, 'twill make a good gap in your quarters wages, [I] can tell you.