To pious uses, and dear charity
Now grown a prodigy with men. Wherein
If you, my son, should now prevaricate,
And, to your own particular lusts employ
So great and catholic a bliss, be sure
A curse will follow, yea, and overtake
Your subtle and most secret ways.

MAM. I know, sir;
You shall not need to fear me; I but come,
To have you confute this gentleman.

SUR. Who is,
Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief
Toward your stone; would not be gull'd.

SUB. Well, son,
All that I can convince him in, is this,
The WORK IS DONE, bright sol is in his robe.
We have a medicine of the triple soul,
The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven,
And make us worthy of it! -- Ulen Spiegel!

FACE [WITHIN]. Anon, sir.

SUB. Look well to the register.
And let your heat still lessen by degrees,
To the aludels.

FACE [WITHIN]. Yes, sir.