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"Fletcher's Works (1 of 10) - the Custom of the Country"


_Arn._ To this mad fortune
Am I now come, my Marriage is proclaim'd,
And nothing can redeem me from this mischief.
_Rut._ She's very young.
_Arn._ Yes.
_Rut._ And fair I dare proclaim her,
Else mine eyes fail.
_Arn._ Fair as the bud unblasted.
_Rut._ I cannot blame him then, if 'twere mine own case,
I would not go an Ace less.
_Arn._ Fye _Rutilio_,
Why do you make your brothers misery
Your sport and game?
_Rut._ There is no pastime like it.
_Arn._ I look'd for your advice, your timely Counsel,
How to avoid this blow, not to be mockt at,
And my afflictions jeer'd.
_Rut._ I tell thee _Arnoldo_,
An thou wert my Father, as thou art but my Brother,
My younger Brother too, I must be merry.
And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,
A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too,
An I were to be hang'd, thus must I handle it.
But you shall see Sir, I can change this habit
To do you any service; advise what you please,
And see with what Devotion I'le attend it?
But yet me thinks, I am taken with this Custom,
[_Enter_ Charino _and_ Zenocia.
And could pretend to th' place.
_Arn._ Draw off a little;
Here comes my Mistress and her Father.


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