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

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Make ready the green Chamber.
_Zab._ It shall be Madam.
_Arn._ I am afraid she will injoy me indeed.
_Hip._ What Musick do ye love?
_Arn._ A modest tongue.
_Hip._ We'l have enough of that: fye, fye, how lumpish!
In a young Ladyes arms thus dull?
_Arn._ For Heaven sake
Profess a little goodness.
_Hip._ Of what Country?
_Arn._ I am of _Rome_.
_Hip._ Nay then I know you mock me,
The _Italians_ are not frighted with such bug-bears,
Prethee go in.
_Arn._ I am not well.
_Hip._ I'le make thee,
I'le kiss thee well.
_Arn._ I am not sick of that sore.
_Hip._ Upon my Conscience, I must ravish thee,
I shall be famous for the first example:
With this I'le tye ye first, then try your strength Sir.
_Arn._ My strength? away base woman, I abhor thee.
I am not caught with stales, disease dwell with thee. [_Exit._
_Hip._ Are ye so quick? and have I lost my wishes?
Hoe, _Zabulon_; my servants.
_Enter_ Zabulon _and_ Servants.
_Zab._ Call'd ye Madam?
_Hip._ Is all that beauty scorned, so many su'd for;
So many Princes? by a stranger too?
Must I endure this?
_Zab._ Where's the Gentleman?
_Hip._ Go presently, pursue the stranger, _Zabulon_.


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