_Eug._ I am amaz'd the Nurse should stay so long;
My Anger makes each minute seem an hour:
That Woman is a thing made up of mischief;
Some Fatal Devil sure did guide the Choyce
My Mother made, in choosing her our Nurse.
She's Fool to th' height: And yet hath wit enough
To tread all Labyrinths of Treachery;
But that's no wonder: For who's Treacherous
That wants not Eyes to see it's ugly Form?
For now I fear, and I believe not vainly,
That Villain, _Jasper_, knows all my concerns,
Or what could prompt him to that Impudence
He did express in his address today.

_Enter Nurse._

Thou fatal Hagg, thou Mother of all mischief,
What Devil taught thy perjur'd Tongue the way
To tell the shame which thou didst first occasion?

_Nurse._ Pray what ayls you, Madam, are you mad?

_Eug._ I wish I was, as I have cause enough,
For then I should not know the shame attends me,
In being Table-talk for every Rascal,
As thou (Hell thank thee for it) now hast made me.

_Nurse._ I made you Table-talk! There's no such thing;
I've been too faithful to you, that I have;
Losing my sleep full oft to watch your pleasure.