Clow. You may read that in this foul coppy.
Foro. Only with this promise, you shall never cozen any of my patients.
Clow. Never.
Foro. And remember hence forward, that though I cannot conjure, I can make you dance sirra, go get your self into the cottage again.
Enter Cæsario.
Clow. I will never more dance leap-Frog: now I have got you into credit, hold it up, and cozen them in abundance.
Foro. Oh rare rascall. [—Exit Clown.
Cesar. How now, a Frankford mart here, a Mountebank, and his worshipfull auditory?
Host. They are my guests Sir.
Cesar. A —— upon them, shew your jugling tricks in some other room.