Hel. Which is he?
Dia. That Iacke-an-apes with scarfes. Why is hee
melancholly?
Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile

Par. Loose our drum? Well

Mar. He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he
has spyed vs

Wid. Marrie hang you

Mar. And your curtesie, for a ring-carrier.
Enter.

Wid. The troope is past: Come pilgrim, I wil bring
you, Where you shall host: Of inioyn'd penitents
There's foure or fiue, to great S[aint]. Iaques bound,
Alreadie at my house

Hel. I humbly thanke you:
Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maide
To eate with vs to night, the charge and thanking
Shall be for me, and to requite you further,
I will bestow some precepts of this Virgin,
Worthy the note

Both. Wee'l take your offer kindly.