Hostis. Signior, Philautus, I pray ye a word. [Exit.
Acut. How now, whispering? s'foot if they should give our purpose another crosse point, where are we then? note, note.
Hostis. Heere take the key, convey yourself into the Chamber, but in any case take heede my husband see you not.
Phy. Feare not, Gentles, be thanks the guerden of your love till time give better abilitie. [Exit.
Acut. Ha! nay s'foot, I must claw out another device, we must not part so, Graccus; prethee keepe the sceane, til I fetch more actors to fill it fuller.
Gra. But prethee, let me partake.
Acut. Not till I returne, pardon me. [Exit.
Hostis. By my troth Gossip, I am halfe sick of a conceit.
Citty wife. What, woman? passion of my heart, tell me your greefs.
Hostis. I shall goe to court now, and attired like an old Darie woman, a Ruffe holland of eight groates, three inches deep of the olde cut, and a hat as far out of fashion as a close placket.