Gal. Prithee, on whom or what? small Village Curs? The barking of a Mastiff wou’d unman thee. [Offers to go.
Cor. Hold—follow me from the Refuge of her Arms; As thou’rt a Man, I do conjure thee do’t:—I hope he will, I’ll venture beating for’t. [Aside.
Gal. Yes, my brisk little Rascal, I will a—a—
Lau. By all that’s good, you shall not stir from hence; ho, who waits there, Antonio, Silvio, Gaspero? [Enter all.] —take that fierce Youth, and bear him from my sight.
Cor. You shall not need; s’life, these rough Rogues will be too hard for me; I’ve one prevention left,—farewel.
May’st thou supply her with as feeble Art,
As I should do, were I to play thy part.
[Goes out with the rest.
Gal. He’s gone, now let’s redeem our blessed Minutes lost.
[Go in.