Cast at him from the boat a sheep’s eye and an half.
Now she is landed, and the sculler come back,
By and by you shall see what Leander doth lack.
Pup. Lean. Cole, Cole, old Cole!
Leath. That is the sculler’s name without controul.
Pup. Lean. Cole, Cole, I say, Cole!
Leath. We do hear you.
Pup. Lean. Old Cole.
Leath. Old Cole! is the dyer turn’d collier? how do you sell?
Pup. Lean. A pox o’ your manners, kiss my hole here, and smell.