Y. LUS. Sweet saint! continue still this patience,
For time will bring him to true penitence.
Mirror of virtue! thanks for my good cheer--
A thousand thanks.

MRS ART. It is so much too dear;
But you are welcome for my husband's sake;
His guests shall have best welcome I can make.

Y. LUS. Than marriage nothing in the world more common;
Nothing more rare than such a virtuous woman.
[_Exit_.

MRS ART. My husband in this humour, well I know,
Plays but the unthrift; therefore it behoves me
To be the better housewife here at home;
To save and get, whilst he doth laugh and spend:
Though for himself he riots it at large,
My needle shall defray my household's charge.
[_She sits down to work in front of the house_.

FUL. Now, Master Anselm, to her, step not back;
Bustle yourself, see where she sits at work;
Be not afraid, man; she's but a woman,
And women the most cowards seldom fear:
Think but upon my former principles,
And twenty pound to a drachm,[7] you speed.

ANS. Ay, say you so?