Lord, how I blush for these two impudents!
_Die_.
Well Gentleman, I think your name's _Leandro_.
_Lea_.
It is indeed, sir,
Gra'-mercy letter, thou hadst never known else.
_Die_.
I have dandled ye, and kist ye and plaid with ye
A hundred, and a hundred times, and danc'd ye,
And swong ye in my Bell-ropes, ye lov'd swinging.
_Lop_.
A sweet Boy.
_Lea_.
Sweet lying knaves.
What would these doe for thousands?
_Lop_.
A wondrous sweet Boy then it was, see now
Time that consumes us, shoots him up still sweeter.
How do's the noble Gentleman? how fares he?
When shall we see him? when will he bless his Country?
_Lea_.
O, very shortly, Sir, till his return
He has sent me over to your charge.
_Lop_.
And welcome,
Nay, you shall know you are welcome to your friend, sir.
_Lea_.
And to my Study, Sir, which must be the Law.
To further which, he would entreat your care
To plant me in the favour of some man
That's expert in that knowledge: for his pains
I have three hundred Duckets more: For my Diet,
Enough, Sir, to defray me: which I am charged
To take still, as I use it, from your custodie,
I have the mony ready, and I am weary.
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