and I would pay't again,
Were I ta'n to morrow.

_Nur._ Alas, there was no hurt,
If 't be a sin for such as live at hard meat,
And keep a long Lent, in the woods as they do,
To taste a little flesh.

_Char._ God help the Courtiers,
That lye at rack and manger.

_Nur._ I shall love
A thief the better for this while I live,
They are men of a charitable vocation,
And give where there is need, and with discretion,
And put a good speed penny in my purse,
That has been empty twenty years.

_Char._ Peace Nurse,
Farewel, and cry not rost meat, me thinks _Cleremont_
And my Lady _Anabel_ are in one night,
Familiarly acquainted.

_Nur._ I observe it,
If she have got a penny too.

_Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, _and_ Provost.

_Charl._ No more,
My Lord Monsieur _Vertaigne_, the provost too,
Haste and acquaint my Lady. [_Ex._ Nur. _and_ Char.

_Pro._ Wonderous strange.

_Vert._ 'Tis true Sir, on my credit.

_Cham._ O mine honour.

_Pro._ I have been provost-Marshal twenty years,
And have trussed up a thousand of these rascals,
But so near _Paris_ yet I never met with
One of that Brotherhood.

_Cham._ We to our cost have,
But will you search the wood?

_Pro._ It is beset,
They cannot scape us, nothing makes me wonder,
So much as having you within their power
They let you goe; it was a Courtesy,
That French thieves use not often, I much pity
The Gentle Ladies, yet I know not how,
I rather hope than fear.

_Enter_ Dinant, Cleremont, Verdone, Beaupre, Lamira, Anabel,
Charlote, _Nurse_.

Are these the prisoners?

_Din._ We were such.

_Verd._ Kill me not, excess of joy.

_Cham._ I see thou livest, but hast thou had no foul play?

_Lam._ No on my soul, my usage hath been noble,
Far from all violence.

_Cham._ How were you freed?
But kiss me first, we'l talk of that at leasure,
I am glad I have thee; Niece how you keep off,
As you knew me not?

_Ana._ Sir, I am where
I owe most duty.

_Cler._ 'Tis indeed most true Sir,
The man that should have been your bedfellow
Your Lordships bedfellow, that could not smell out
A Virgin of sixteen, that was your fool,
To make you merry, this poor simple fellow
Has met the maid again, and now she knows
He is a man.

_Cham._ How! is she dishonoured?

_Cler._ Not unless marriage be dishonourable,
Heaven is a witness of our happy contract,
And the next Priest we meet shall warrant it
To all the world: I lay with her in jeast,
'Tis turn'd to