Gom. You walked in your sleep, with your eyes broad open, at noon-day; and dreamt you were talking to the foresaid purpose with one Colonel Hernando—
415 Elv. Who, dear husband, who?
Gom. What the devil have I said?—You would have farther information, would you?
Elv. No; but my dear, little, old man, tell me now, that I may avoid him for your sake.
Gom. Get you up into your chamber, cockatrice; and there immure yourself; be confined, I say, during our royal pleasure. But, first, down on your marrowbones, upon your allegiance, and make an acknowledgement of your offences; for I will have ample satisfaction.
[Pulls her down.
Elv. I have done you no injury, and therefore I'll make you no submission: but I'll complain to my ghostly father.
Gom. Ay, there's your remedy; when you receive condign punishment, you run with open mouth to your confessor; that parcel of holy guts and garbadge: he must chuckle you and moan you; but I'll rid my hands of his ghostly authority one day, [Enter Dominick.] and make him know he's the son of a—[Sees him.] So;—no sooner conjure, but the devil's in the circle.
Dom. Son of a what, Don Gomez?
Gom. Why, a son of a church; I hope there's no harm in that, father?
Dom. I will lay up your words for you, till time shall serve; and to-morrow I enjoin you to fast, for penance.