WIFE. Who's that, husband? you, you! means he you?
WAR. I, by'r Lady is it, I thank him.
WIFE. Ah, ye knave you! God's pity, husband, why dis no your worship send the kneve to Newgate?
LIT. JOHN. Well, Master Sheriff, shall I pass or no?
SHER. Not without search.
LIT. JOHN. Then here the casket stands:
Any that dares unto it set their hands,
Let him begin.
WIFE. Do, hisband;
You are a majesty: I warrant
There's old knacks, chains, and other toys.
LIT. JOHN. But not for you, good madam beetle-brows.
WIFE. Out upon him! By my truly, Master Justice, and ye do not clap him up, I will sue a bill of remorse, and never come between a pair of sheets with ye. Such a kneve as this! down with him, I pray.
[Set upon him: he knocks some down.