Fr. Jhon. I, alas?
A weaknes from my childhood, I confesse,
I ever had and cannott helpe it nowe,
To have a trobled countenance. I make mouthes?
This (most observed father) but approoves
My innosens and his envye. Markt you that?
Fryar Richard bent his fyst and threatned mee.
I call all these to witnesse.
Fr. Rich. No such thinge.
I have a crampe oft takes me in this hand
And makes mee weare clutcht ringers, and that passion
Now came upon mee; but for meanacinge him
It ever was farr from mee. This but showes
His owld inveterate mallice, which in charity
I wishe might heare lye buried.—Syrrah, anon
I'l have you by the eares.
Fr. Jhon. Doo if thou darst; We'll tugge it out by the teeth.
Fr. Rich. Meete me i'th orchard Just after even song.
Fr. Jhon. I will make short prayers Bycause I'l keepe appointment.
Abbot. I am playne
And breife with all: eather betwixt you too [sic]
Make frendly reconsilement, and in presence
Of this your brotherhood (for what is fryar
But frater, and that's brother?), or my selfe
Out of my power will putt you to a penance
Shall make you in one weeke fyve fasting-dayes.
Fr. Jhon. Oh terrible!
Abbot. Or, if that will not tame you,
I will complayne to'th fownder of your loosenes,
Your riotts, and disorders, and petition
That you, as sowers off seditious hatred[62]
And sole disturbers of our common peace,
Maye bee excluded this society,
Banisht by common barre-law, and shutt out
To publick shame and beggerye.
Fr. Rich. Horrible!
Fr. Jhon. Fyrst then to showe my submisse willingnes
And forwardnes withall: with as much charity
As any new reformed man maye doo,
I with a zeale and hart new reconsiled
Thus humbly begge his love.
(Y'are a rogue, Ritchard.)