MAT. In his name that did suffer for my sin,
And by this blessed sign, I conjure you.
[Draws a crucifix.
Depart, foul fiends, and cease to trouble me.
BRAND. 'Zounds, she thinks us devils! Hear you, conjuror,
Except you use that trick to conjure down
The standing spirit of my lord the king,
That your good mother there, the Abbess, uses
To conjure down the spirit of the monk,
Not all your crosses have the power to bless
Your body from a sharp and speedy death.
MAT. Are ye not fiends, but mortal bodies, then?
[Feels them all.
BRAND. Maid, maid, catch lower when you feel young men.
'Sblood, I was never taken for the devil till now.
MAT. O, where shall chastity have true defence,
When churchmen lay this siege to innocence?
Where shall a maid have certain sanctuary,
When Lady Lust rules all the nunnery?
Now fie upon ye both, false seeming saints,
Incarnate devils, devilish hypocrites!
A cowled monk, an aged veiled nun,
Become false panders, and with lustful speech
Essay the chaste ears of true maidenhead!
Now fie upon this age! Would I were dead!
MONK. Come, leave her, lady: she shall have her wish.
ABB. Speed her, I pray thee: should the baggage live,
She'll slander all the chaste nuns in the land.
[Exeunt MONK, ABBESS.
BRAND. Well, well, go; get you two unto your conjuring:
Let me alone to lay her on God's ground.
MAT. Why dost thou stay?