Sam. But who, Hylas?
Hyl. The young Gentleman and I are like to be friends again,
The fates will have it so.
Sam. Who, Monsieur Thomas?
Hyl. All wrongs forgot.
Sam. O now I smell ye, Hylas;
Does he know of it?
Hyl. No there's the trick I owe him;
'Tis done, Boy, we are fast 'faith, my Youth now
Shall know I am aforehand, for his qualities.
Sam. Is there no trick in't?
Hyl. None, but up and ride, Boy:
I have made no Joynture neither, there I have paid him.
Sam. She's a brave wench.
Hyl. She shall be as I'll use her,
And if she anger me, all his abuses
I'll clap upon her Cassock.