—This may do; I’ll tell her of this Thought,
This is the first of Art I ever thought on;
And if this proves a fruitless Remedy,
The next, I need not study, how to die.
Exeunt.
[ Scene IV.] [A Street.]
Enter Lorenzo, meets Guilliam, who passes by him, and takes no notice of him.
Lor. How now, Manners a few?
Guil. I cry you heartily, Sir, I did not see you.
Lor. Well, Sirrah, the News.