Assyst the ende (for such a thynge she causd)?
How?
What a dull slave am I! why twas as muche
As the untyinge of hys codpeyce poynte,
Almost the _rem in re_! for whyle he stoode
Constant to my dyrectyons all was well,
But, those abandond, then,--harte! I am madd:
I pray thee, _Diddier_, helpe me to cursse
Me & my rashnes, that so curbd my reason
I would not heare hym speake but put hym strayght
To everlastynge sylence.

_Did_. No, my lorde,
Letts cursse the lust of woman.

_Gan_. Well rememberd.

_Did_. And yet there is a heavye one prepard
To meete them where they act it in the darke.

_Gan_. True, _Didier_, there is so, and from that
May penytence want power to rescue theym.

_Did_. Be there a dearthe of arte to helpe complexion,
And for theym many housses of correctyon.

_Gan_. And if it be possyble o let the Bedle
Not with theire money but hys owne whypp medle,
And lashe theym soundlye.

_Did_. No, thats not so good:
May all theire soundnes tourne toth poxes foode.

_Gan_. May constables to cadges[102] styll comend theym
And theire knowne foes, age & ill cloathes attend theym.

_Did_. May they want skyll to banyshe theire breathes stynke,
And onlye Barbers potyons be their drynke.
May theire sore wast theire lynnen into lynte
For medlinge with other stones then flynte.

_Gan_. And to conclude thys hartylie breathd cursse;
Theire lives beinge monstrous, let theire ends be worsse.

_Did_. Amen.

_Enter Gabriella_.

_Gab_. Amen to what?

_Did_. Faythe, madam, a was prayinge for hys syster.

_Gan_. O you are wellcome.--Worthye frend, withdrawe.--
[_Exit Didier_.
Nowe my rare pollytycke syster, what will please you?

_Gab_. My rare ingenyous brother, why doe you aske?

_Gan_. Ile tell thee, woman, & observe it well,
Thou shalt remayne the porest wretche alyve,
The most forsaken of delight & pleasure
That ever breathd a myserable life,
If I may knowe what pleasses you. Beware
And answere wiselye: you are leaveinge nowe
All that hathe tyckld your insatyatt bloode,
When you resolve my questyon: I will strypp
Your sweete contents of to the naked soule
Before you parte. Doe you laughe? by heaven I will.

_Gab_. What brave exployts youle doe uppon the sodayne!

_Gan_. If you account theym so tys well, tys well.

_Gab_. Fye, fye, what moves you to thys froward wellcome?

_Gan_. Calst it allreadye frowarde? shallowe foole,
I should salute thee