Ali. Have ye? do you not feel Sir? do's it not stir ye?
Do you ask a child? I would have ye do most bravely,
Because I most affect ye: like your self Sir,
Scorn him, and let him go; seem to contemn him,
And now ye have made him shake, seal him his pardon,
When he appears a subject fit for anger,
And fit for you, his pious Armour off,
His hopes no higher than your sword may reach at,
Then strike, and then ye know revenge; then take it.
I hope I have turn'd his mind.
Rod. Let the fool go there,
I scorn to let loose so base an anger
May light on thee: See me no more, but quit me;
And when we meet again.
Ped. I'le thank ye Captain. [Exit.
Alin. Why this was like your self: but which way goes he?
Shall we ne're happy meet?
Rod. I am drowsie: Boy,
Go with me, and discourse: I like thy company
O Child! I love thy tongue.
Alin. I shall wait on ye. [Exit.
Lop. The Boy has don't: a Plaguey witty Rascal.
And I shall love him terribly.
Jaq. 'Twas he most certain,
For if ye mark, how earnest he was with him,
And how he labour'd him.
Lop. A cunning villain,
But a good rogue; 'This boy will make's all honest.
1 Out-l. I scarce believe that: but I like the boy well.
Come let's to Supper; then upon our watches.