Pray walke a-while
Imo. About some halfe houre hence,
Pray you speake with me;
You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord.
For this time leaue me.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Clotten, and two Lords.
1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence
of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where
ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so
wholesome as that you vent
Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it.
Haue I hurt him?
2 No faith: not so much as his patience
1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee
not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt
2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the
Towne
Clot. The Villaine would not stand me
2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face
1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:
But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground
2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)
Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs
2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole
you were vpon the ground
Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse
mee
2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd
1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine
go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene
small reflection of her wit
2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection
Should hurt her
Clot.
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