He is too demure, Sir.
_Lop_.
If he do sting her home.
_Dieg_.
There's no such matter,
The woman was not born to so much blessedness,
He has no heat: study consumes his oyl, Master.
_Lop_.
Let's leave it to the will of Fate, and presently
Over a cup of lustie Sack, let's prophesie.
I am like a man that dreamt he was an Emperour,
Come _Diego_, hope, and whilst he lasts, we'll lay it on. [_Ex_.
SCENA III.
_Enter_ Jamy, Milanes, Arsenio.
_Jam_.
_Angelo, Milanes_, did you see this wonder?
_Mil_.
Yes, yes.
_Jam_.
And you _Arsenio_?
_Ars_.
Yes he's gone, Sir,
Strangely disguis'd, he's set upon his voyage.
Love guide his thoughts: he's a brave honest fellow.
Sit close Don Lawyer, O that arrant knave now,
How he will stink, will smoak again, will burst!
He's the most arrant Beast.
_Mil_.
He may be more beast.
_Jam_.
Let him bear six, and six, that all may blaze him,
The villany he has sowed into my Brother,
And from his State, the Revenue he has reach'd at:
Pay him, my good _Leandro_, take my prayers.
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