this is perfect caterwauling.

_Trick._ You fancy all this; I would not hurt you for the world. Come,
you shall see how well I love you. [_Kisses him: Mrs_ BRAIN. _pricks
her._] Oh! I think you have needles growing in your bed.
[_Both rise up._

_Wood._ I will see what is the matter in it.

_Saint._ [_Within._] Mr Woodall, where are you, verily?

_Wood._ Pox verily her! it is my landlady: Here, hide yourself behind
the curtains, while I run to the door, to stop her entry.

_Trick._ Necessity has no law; I must be patient.
[_She gets into the Bed, and draws the clothes over her._

_Enter_ SAINTLY.

_Saint._ In sadness, gentleman, I can hold no longer: I will not keep
your wicked counsel, how you were locked up in the chest; for it lies
heavy upon my conscience, and out it must, and shall.

_Wood._ You may tell, but who will believe you? where's your witness?

_Saint._ Verily, heaven is my witness.

_Wood._ That's your witness too, that you would have allured me to
lewdness, have seduced a hopeful young man, as I am; you would have
enticed youth: Mark that, beldam.