Harl. I’ll shew you, Seignior,’tis easy.
Feth. ’Gad that may be, ’twere excellent if I cou’d do’t; but first—by your leave. [Unties the Necklace, breaks the String, and Harl. swallows one to shew him.
Harl. Look ye, that’s all—
Feth. Hold, hold, Seignior, an you be so nimble, I shall pay dear for my Learning—let me see—Friend Nicholas, thou hast swallow’d many a Pill for the Disease of the Body, let’s see what thou canst perform for that of the Purse. [Swallows ’em.
—so—a comfortable business this—three or four thousand pound in Cordial-Pearl: ’Sbud, Mark Anthony was never so treated by his Egyptian Crocodile—hah, what noise is that?
Harl. Operator, Operator, Seignior.
Feth. How, an Operator! why, what the Devil makes he here? some Plot upon my Lady’s Chastity; were I given to be jealous now, Danger wou’d ensue—Oh, he’s entring, I would not be seen for all the World. Oh, some place of Refuge— [Looking about.
Harl. I know of none.
Feth. Hah, what’s this—a Clock Case?
Harl. Good, good—look you, Sir, do you do thus, and ’tis impossible to discover ye.