Compass, Practice, Ironside, Polish, Lady.
Com. Where is my Wife? what ha' you done with
my Wife,
Gossip o' the Counsels?
Pol. I, sweet Mr. Compass,
I honour you, and your Wife.
Com. Well, do so still.
I will not call you Mother tho', but Polish.
Good Gossip Polish, where ha' you hid my Wife?
Pol. I hide your Wife?
Com. Or she's run away.
Lad. That would make all suspected, Sir, a-fresh.
Come we will find her, if she be i' the House.
Pol. Why should I hide your Wife, good Mr. Compass?
Com. I know no cause, but that you are goody Polish,
That's good at malice; good at mischief; all
That can perplex or trouble a business throughly.
Pol. You may say what you will: yo' are Mr. Compass,
And carry a large sweep, Sir, i' your Circle.
Lad. I'll sweep all corners, Gossip, to spring this.
If 't be above Ground. I will have her cry'd,
By the Common-cryer, through all the Ward,
But I will find her.
Iro. It will be an Act
Worthy your Justice, Madam.
Pra. And become
the integrity, and worship of her Name.