Let me get in,
There trot and fiddle where I may have fair play.
_Ars_.
But how get in?
_Lean_.
Leave that to me, your patience,
I have some toyes here that I dare well trust to:
I have smelt a Vicar out, they call him _Lopez_.
You are ne're the nearer now.
_Mil_.
We do confess it.
_Lea_.
Weak simple men, this Vicar to this Lawyer
Is the most inward _Damon_.
_Ars_.
What can this do?
_Mil_.
We know the fellow, and he dwells there.
_Lean_. So.
_Ars_.
A poor, thin thief: he help? he? hang the Vicar,
Can reading of an ---- prefer thee?
Thou art dead-sick in love, and hee'l pray for thee.
_Lean_.
Have patience (Gentlemen) I say this Vicar,
This thing I say is all one with the Close _Bartolus_
(For so they call the Lawyer) or his nature
Which I have studied by relation:
And make no doubt I shall hit handsomly,
Will I work cunningly, and home: understand me.
_Enter_ Lopez, _and_ Diego.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35