wels and your own.
[_He thrusts his wife off the stage._
As for you, colonel Huffcap, we shall try before a civil magistrate,
who's the greater plotter of us two, I against the state, or you
against the petticoat.

_Lor._ Nay, if you will complain, you shall for something.
[_Beats him._

_Gom._ Murder, murder! I give up the ghost! I am destroyed! help,
murder, murder!

_Dom._ Away, colonel; let us fly for our lives: the neighbours are
coming out with forks, and fire-shovels, and spits, and other domestic
weapons; the militia of a whole alley is raised against us.

_Lor._ This is but the interest of my debt, master usurer; the
principal shall be paid you at our next meeting.

_Dom._ Ah, if your soldiers had but dispatched him, his tongue had
been laid asleep, colonel; but this comes of not following good
counsel; ah-- [_Exeunt_ LOR. _and Friar severally._

_Gom._ I'll be revenged of him, if I dare; but he's such a terrible
fellow, that my mind misgives me; I shall tremble when I have him
before the judge. All my misfortunes come together. I have been
robbed, and cuckolded, and ravished, and beaten, in one quarter of an
hour; my poor limbs smart, and my poor head aches: ay, do, do, smart
limb, ache head, and sprout horns; but I'll be hanged before I'll pity
you:--you must needs be married, must ye? there's for that; [_Beats
his own head._] and to a fine, young, modish lady, must ye? there's
for that too; and, at threescore, you old, doting cuckold! take that
remembrance;--a fine time of day for a man to be bound prentice, when
he is past using of his trade; to set up an equipage of noise, when he
has most need of quiet; instead of her being under covert-baron, to be
under covert-femme myself; to have my body disabled, and my head
fortified; and, lastly, to be crowded into a narrow box with a shrill
treble,
That with one blast through the whole house does bound,
And first taught speaking-trumpets how to sound. [_Exit._

SCENE II.--_The Court._

_Enter_ RAYMOND, ALPHONSO, _and_ PEDRO.

_Raym._ Are these, are these, ye powers, the promised joys,
With which I flattered my long, tedious absence,
To find, at my return, my master murdered?
O, that I could but weep, to vent my passion!
But this dry sorrow burns up all my tears.

_Alph._ Mourn inward, brother; 'tis observed at court,
Who we