His sute was colde, because not his owne, and the owner caused
it to be restored as part of recompence, having lost the principall.
_Re-enter_[306] _Acutus_.
_Acut_. What, are they readie? the Corse is on his journey hetherwards.
_Grac_. Tush, two womens tungs give as loud report as a campe royall of
double cannons.
_Enter Host, Cornutus_.
_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art welcom; _Cornutus_ is my neighbour, I love
him as my self. Tha'st a shrowe to thy wife, gave her tongue to [_sic_]
much string, but let mine Host give thee counsell, heele teach thee a
remedie.
_Cornu_. No, no, my good Host; mum, mum, no words against my wife;
shee's mine owne, one flesh, & one blood. I shall feele her hurt, her
tongue is her owne, so are her hands; mum, mum, no words against your
wife.
_Host_. Tut, tut, thou art a foole, keepe her close from the poticarie,
let her taste of no licoras, twill make her long winded; no plums, nor
no parseneps, no peares, nor no Popperins, sheele dreame in her sleep
then; let her live vpon Hasels, give her nuts for her dyet, while a
toothe's in her head, give her cheese for disgestion,[307] twil make her
short winded; if that will not serve, set fire to the pan and blow her
up with Gun-powder.
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