Die. That may do well too,
And no doubt 'tis but venial, But good Lazaro
Have you a care of understanding horses,
[Horses with angry heels, gentlemens horses,]
Horses that know the world: let them have meat
Till their teeth ake; and rubbing till their ribs
Shine like a wenches forehead; they are devils.
Laz. And look into our dealings: as sure as we live
These Courtiers horses are a kind of Welsh Prophets,
Nothing can be hid from 'em: For mine own part
The next I cozen of that kind shall be founder'd,
And of all four too: I'll no more such complements
Upon my crupper.
Die. Steal but a little longer
Till I am lam'd too, and we'll repent together,
It will not be above two daies.
Laz. By that time
I shall be well again, and all forgot Sir.
Die. Why then I'll stay for thee. [Exit.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Theodosi[a] and Phillipo on several Beds.
Theo. Oh,—ho! oh—ho!
Phi. Ha?
Theo. Oh—oh! heart—heart—heart—heart?