How the dogg leers.
_Clod_. You need not now be jealous,
I speak at distance to your wife, but when the Priest has done,
We shall grow nearer, and more familiar.
_Rut_. I'le watch you for that trick, baboon, I'le
Smoke you: the rogue sweats, as if he had eaten
Grains, he broyles, if I do come to the
Basting of you.
_Arno_. Your Lordship
May happily speak this, to fright a stranger,
But 'tis not in your honour, to perform it;
The Custom of this place, if such there be,
At best most damnable, may urge you to it,
But if you be an honest man you hate it,
How ever I will presently prepare
To make her mine, and most undoubtedly
Believe you are abus'd, this custome feign'd too,
And what you now pretend, most fair and vertuous.
_Clod_. Go and believe, a good belief does well Sir;
And you Sir, clear the place, but leave her here.
_Arn_. Your Lordships pleasure.
_Clod_. That anon _Arnoldo_,
This is but talk.
_Rut_. Shall we goe off?
_Arn_. By any means,
I know she has pious thoughts enough to guard her:
Besides, here's nothing due to him till the tye be done,
Nor dare he offer.
_Rut_. Now do I long to worry him:
Pray have a care to the main chance.
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