Mask. By thy——
Beat. No more swearing, I beseech you.
Mask. That woman's worth little, that is not worth an oath: Well, get thee gone; now I think on't, thou shalt not tell me.
Beat. Shall I not? Who shall hinder me? They are Don Alonzo de Ribera's daughters.
Mask. Out, out: I'll stop my ears.
Beat. They live hard by, in the Calle maior.
Mask. O, infernal tongue—
Beat. And are going to the next chapel with their father.
Mask. Wilt thou never have done tormenting me? In my conscience, anon thou wilt blab out their names too.