Coup. [To Bull.] Are not you a rogue of Sanctity?
Bull. Sir, with respect to my Function, I do wear a Gown. I hope, Sir, my Character will be consider'd; I am Heaven's Ambassador.
Coup. Did not you marry this vigorous young Fellow to a plump young buxom Wench?
Nurse. [To Bull.] Don't confess, Roger, unless you are hard put to it, indeed?
Coup. Come, out with't—Now is he chewing the Cud of his Roguery, and grinding a Lye between his Teeth.
Bull. Sir,——I cannot positively say——I say, Sir——positively I cannot say——
Coup. Come, no Equivocation, no Roman Turns upon us. Consider thou stand'st upon Protestant Ground, which will slip from under thee like a Tyburn Car; for in this Country we have always ten Hangmen for one Jesuit.
Bull. [To Young Fash.] Pray, Sir, then will you but permit me to speak one word in private with Nurse?
Young Fash. Thou art always for doing something in private with Nurse.
Coup. But pray let his Betters be serv'd before him for once. I would do something in private with her myself; Lory, take care of this Reverend Gownman in the next Room a little. Retire, Priest. [Exit Lo. with Bull.]—Now, Virgin, I must put the matter home to you a little: Do you think it might not be possible to make you speak Truth?