Whore thou dar'st not.
Yeeld or Ile have thee whipt; How my bloud boiles,
As if t'were ore a furnace! _Mir._ I shall coole it.

_Bri._ Yet gentle _Lilly_, pitie and forgive me,
Ile be a friend t'ye, such a loving bountiful friend--

_Lil._ To avoid suites in Law, I would grant a litle,
But should fierce _Andrew_ know it, what would become
Of me? _And._ A whore, a whore! _Bri._ Nothing but well Wench,
I will put such a strong bit in his mouth,
As thou shalt ride him how thou wilt, my _Lilly_:
Nay, he shall hold the doore, as I will worke him,
And thank thee for the office. _Mir._ Take heed _Andrew_,
These are shrewd temptations. _And._ Pray you know
Your Cue, and second me Sir; By your Worships favour.

_Bri._ _Andrew_! _And._ I come in time to take possession
Of th' office you assigne me; hold the doore,
Alas 'tis nothing for a simple man
To stay without when a deepe understanding
Holds conference within, say with his wife:
A trifle Sir, I know I hold my farme
In Cuckolds Tenure: you are Lord o'the soile Sir,
_Lilly_ is a Weft, a Straie shee's yours, to use Sir,
I claime no interest in her. _Bri._ Art thou serious?
Speak honest _Andrew_, since thou hast oreheard us,
And wink at small faults, man; I'me but a pidler,
A little will serve my turne; thou'lt finde enough
When I've my bellyfull; wilt thou be private
And silent? _And._ By all meanes, Ile onely have
A Ballad made of't, sung to some lewd Tune,
And the name of it shall be _Justice Trap_,
It will sell rarely with your Worships name,
And _Lillies_ on the top. _Bri._ Seek not the ruine
O' my reputation, _Andrew_. _And._ Tis for your credit,
Monsieur _Brisac_ printed in capital letters,
Then pasted upon all the posts in _Paris_.

_Bri._ No mercy, _Andrew_? _And._ O, it will proclaim you
From th' Citie to the Court, and prove sport royal.

_Bri._ Thou shall keep thy Farm. _Mir._ He does afflict him rarely.

_And._ You trouble me. Then his intent arriving,
The vizard of his hypocrisie poll'd off
To the Judge criminal. _Bri._ O, I am undone.

_And._ Hee's put out of Commission with disgrace,
And held uncapable of bearing Office
Ever hereafter. This is my revenge,
And this Ile put in practice. _Bri._ Doe but heare me.

_And._ To bring me back from my Grammer to my horne-book,
It is unpardonable. _Bri._ Do not play the Tyrant;
Accept of composition. _Lil._ Heare him, _Andrew_.

_And._ What composition? _Bri._ Ile confirme thy farme,
An