Clowne. Nay, sweete rogue, Where is his bewteous mystresse?
Scrib. Heare within.
Clowne. In this place joyninge to the monastery? And Mildewe too?
Scrib. Rott on that villeyne! no.
Clowne. Hee promist to bringe you too alonge and meete with my master and som others of his frends att supper.
Scrib. Can such men, ever false unto theire God, Keepe faythe with men at any tyme?
_Clowne. _But staye, staye, there's one riddle I cannot expound: howe com thou so suddenly to lepp out of a howse of roguery into a howse of religion, from a stewes to a cloyster, from beastleness to blessednes and from a sacrilegious place to a sanctuary?
Scrib. Such was the grace heaven sent us, who from perill,
Danger of lyfe, the extreamest of all extreames
Hathe brought us to the happy patronage
Of this most reverent abbott.
Clowne. What dangers? what extreames?
Scrib. From the sea's fury, drowneing; for last night Our shipp was splitt, wee cast upon these rocks.