NAN

Who's that abroad so late? Charity should be in bed at Midnight. He's gone from home, and that's a reason too We shut up doors thus early; say, what are you? Religious men, and keep unlawful hours? 'Twere suspicious for me, but a lone woman, he abroad, To entertain men of your rank and place, Whose lustest have all been questioned, and have drawn Good women of best rumour and report, Into foul scandal; therefore pardon me, This night you get no entrance. Good, excuse me. Curse upon them, No night but this to trouble me in? being engaged To better fare by appointment. Well Friar, you shall, But this provided, I will lock you up In a close Garret, and my self keep the Key To avoid suspicion; you shall have fresh straw, But other Bedding none, no fire nor Candle, Beer, Ale, nor any such commodity, Now in my Husbands absence; so, pray enter, And this I do for Charity. I have only a Cockloft, please you gentle Friars, To make best use of that and some fresh straw, Best harbour that my Husbands absence yields You're welcome to. Please you enter, but yet no further then I'll lock you in I'll keep the Key my self. Whose there? Not Master Constable? Have you disposed your Watch? Not too loud, mean time I softly will Sneak down The Stairs, and softly let you in. I was in fear you would have broke with me, But now I see you're currant. Piping hight, I'll go fetch Salt and Trenchers. Now let's be merry, but in any case Speak not too loud, least we should wake the Friars. Two Abbey Lubbers that are locked up fast, Of whom I could not rid me; but I think I have fitted them, they have neither light nor bed, Nor any other Comfort. Do you't, I am no Carver. If I begin, may I never eat more. If that should be my Husband? You were shamed, I quite undone; he knocks again; Upon my life it's he. My Husbands voice, who's there? Creep beneath the Bed. Now to convey these victuals hence, and put out the fire, Lord Husband is it you? who looked for you so late? These shall into the Cupboard, if the smell Betray's not w'are safe. I am coming, good lie close, and if I can get him Once to bed, I have a trick to shift you. Lord Husband that you'll venture whom so late, So many Knaves abroad? What, talk of Victuals now? is this a time of night? Had I known But of your coming home I had provided, But now I pray to bed, this cold so troubles me. You see the fire's quite out. Would house and all were fired, So some of us were out on't. No hurt man; nay, pray will you to bed? Two Friars shut from their Covents, wanting harbour, Begged lodging with such importunity They would not be denied; at length I pitied them, And yet to make them sure, I locked them fast Up in the Straw-loft, and see, here's the Key, Th'are fast enough for starting. Friar Bernard, and Friar John. Call them up? what time shall we to bed then? To your bellies pots and all. Not so much as a cantell of Cheese, or crust of bred, That can this night be come by (for your throats, I'll rather see you choked.) What a leering eye the Friar cast towards the Cupboard? We shall have now some fooling. You see to please you, we can do any thing. Pox on the Friar, have you these tricks? Your Devils take you; you know where's the best liquour. The Devil take all such smell-feasts. A poison on thee, would it might prove so to thee, It was never provided for those chops. But curse on thine, and on thy stomach too. I could eat thee. More scurvy tricks Friar John, I may live to cry quit tance with you. I'll after him and least he should bear down partly Of the house, I'll let him out of doors. For reverence of your Order. I have God such a cold, a cough withal, I thought I should have died; stay but a little Till I have cast my Petticoat about me, I'll quickly let you in; the fire's quite out, No sign of any Feast. You're such another man?