REASON

Forward I pray, yet the case is plain. All this is well, no fault is to be found In either of the parties, pray say on. And is this all? make me a M imus, And fend the offender straightways to the gail. All this is well, here is your son you say, But she that is his wife you cannot find. Well all is one, for man and wife are one: But is this all? Nay if the case appear thus evident, Give me a cup of wine, what man and wife To disagree, I prithee fill my cup: I could say somewhat, tut, tut, by this wine, I promise you, 'tis good Canary Sack. The woman says but reason M. Arthur, And therefore give her licence to depart. Nay save your oath, I pray you do not swear, Or if you swear, take not too deep and oath. Oh sir, I would have credited these words Without this oath: but bring your daughter hither, That I may give her counsel ere you go. Good woman, or good wife, or Mistress, if you have done amiss, it should seem you have done a fault; and making a fault, theres no questio ̄ but you have done amiss: but if you walk uprightly, and neither led to the right hand nor the left, no question but you have neither led to the right hand nor the left, but as a man should faith, walked uprightly: but it should appear by these plain tiffes, that you have had some wrong, If you love your spouse entirely, it should seem you affect him fervently; and if he hate you monstrously, it should seem he loathes you most exceedingly: and theres the point, at which I will leave, for the time passes away: therefore to con clude, this is my best counsel, look that thy husband so fallen in, that hereafter you never fallen out. Nay stay my friend, we must examine you, What can you say concerning this debate Betwixt young M. Arthur and his wife? How nothing? come depose him, take his oath, Swear him I say, take his confession. We cannot take him in contrary tales, For he says nothing still, and that same nothing Is that which we have stood on all this while: He hath confessed even all, for all is nothing. This is your witness, he hath witnest nothing. Since nothing then so plainly is confessed, And we by cunning answers and by wit Have wrought him to confess nothing to us, Write his confession. Why nothing: herd you not as well as I What he confessed? I say write nothing down. Mistress we have dismissed you, love your husband, Which while you do, you shall not hate your husband. Bring him before me, I will urge him with This Gentleman's express confession Against you: send him to me, I'll not fail To keep joust nothing in my memory. And sir now that we have examined you, We likewise here discharge you with good leave. Now M. Arthur, and M. Lusam too, Come in with me, unless the man were here Whom most especially the cause concerns, We cannot end this quarrel: but come near, And we will taste a glass of our March beer. Good morrow Mistress Arthur, you are Like a good huswife, At your request I am come home, what a Chair! Thus age seeks ease: where is your husband Mistress? What a cushion too! Marry and will good fellow, twenty thanks. Well when men meet they meet, And when they partly, they oft leave one another's compa nigh: So we being met, are met. If I may be so bold in a strange place, I say good morrow, and as much to you. I pray gentlemen will you fit down? We have be young Like you, and if you live Unto our age, you will be old Like us. Welcome Sir Aminadab, o my son Hath profited exceeding well with you, Fit down, fit down, by Mistress Arthurs leave. And here shall mistress Arthur fit by me. I con you thanks, but sir Aminadab, Is that your scholar? now I promise you He is a towards stripling of his age. Let come my wench, here youngsters, to you all, You are silent, here's that will make you talk. Wenches, me think you fit Like Puritants, Never a Jest abroad to make them laugh? Before hand lets prepare our selves to laugh, A Jest is nothing if it be not graced: Now, now, I pray you when begins this Jest? 'Tis very pretty, but now whence the Jest? It was indeed, I must for fashions sake Say as they say, but otherwise, o God. Good M. Arthur thanks for our good cheer. I am, I marry am I, that I am. God be with you all. I wonder why the knave my man stays thus, And comes not back, see where the villain loiters. Mistress Arthur, here comes her husband. Old M. Arthur and M. Lusam, so it is, that I have herd both your complaints, but understood neither, for you know Legere & non intelligere negligere est. You come for favour, and you come for justice, Justice with favour is not partial, And using that, I hope to please you both. Why so I do, I think upon them both, But can do neither of you good: For he that lives must die, and she thats dead, Cannot be revived. And robbers are flat felons by the law. My Masters you must leave this quarreling, for quarrellers are never at peace, and me ̄ of peace while they are at quiet are never quarreling; so you while you fallen into brawls, you cannot choose but Jar. Here comes your son accused, & your wife the accuser: stand forth both. Hugh be ready with your pen and Ink to take their exa minations and confessions. But so the law must not be satisfied, Blood must have blood, and men must have death, I think that cannot be dispensed withal. Where didst thou buy this poison? for such drugs Are felony for any man to fell. No matter, fetch him, fetch him, bring him To answer to this matter at the bar: Hue, take these Officers and apprehend him. Sir Dad, Sir Dab, heres one accuseth you To give him poison being ill employed, Speak how in this case you can clear your self. I but who sold the poison unto him? That must be likewise known, speak schoolmaster. Lay hands on him, are you a poison seller? Bring him before us, sirrah what say you, Sold you a poison to this honest man? Would, would, I smell a Rat. You sold him poison then to kill his Rats? The word to kill, argues a murderous mind: And you are brought in compass of the murder: So set him by we will not hear him speak. That Arthur Fuller and the schoolmaster Shall by the Judges be examined. Whats he that will a murder justify? Lay hands on him, lay hands on him I say, For iustifiers are all accessaries, And accessaries have deserved to die. A way with him, we will not hear him speak, They all shall to the high Commissioners. Is it not Mistress Arthur that we see, That long since buried we supposed to be. I know them all, again well answered: Pray God my youngest boy profit no worse. So, so, what then, what then?