Or my poor childrens: (though it suits a mother
To show a natural care in their reliefs)
Yet I'll forget my self to calm your blood:
Consume it, as your pleasure counsels you,
And all I wish e'en Clemency affords:
Give me but comely looks and modest words.

HUSBAND.
Money, hore, money, or I'll--

[Draws his dagger.]

[Enters a servant very hastily.]

What the devil? how now? thy hasty news?

[To his man.]

SERVINGMAN.
May it please you, sir--

[Servant in a fear.]

HUSBAND.
What? May I not look upon my dagger? Speak villain, or I will
execute the point on thee: quick, short.

SERVINGMAN.
Why, sir, a gentleman from the University stays below to speak
with you.