Otr. Her brother [?'tis,] methinks it should be easie:
That gross compound cannot but diffuse
The soul in such a latitude of ease,
As to make dull her faculties, and lazie:
What wit above the least can be in him,
That Reason ties together?
Ger. I have prov'd it, Sir,
And know the depth of it: I have the way
To make him follow me a hackney-pace,
With all that flesh about him; yes, and dragg
His Sister after him: This baits the old one,
Rid you him, and leave me to the other. [Exit.
Otr. 'Tis well: Oh Franio, the good day to you;
You were not wont to hear this Musick standing:
The Beagle and the Bugle ye have lov'd,
In the first rank of Huntsmen.
Bust. The dogs cry out of him now.
Fra. Sirrah, leave your barking, I'll bite you else:
Bust. Curr, Curr.
Fra. Slave, do'st call me dog?
Otr. Oh fie Sir, he speaks Latine to you,
He would know why you'll bite him.
Bust. Responde cur; You see his understanding (my Lord.)
Fra. I shall have a time to curry you for this:
But (my Lord) to answer you, the daies have been
I must have footed it before this Horn-pipe,
Though I had hazarded my Mill a fire,
And let the stones grind empty: but those dancings
Are done with me: I have good will to it still,
And that's the best I can do.