Laz. I cannot stay.
Mer. By my fay but you shall Sir, in regard of your love to learning, and your kill in the black Art.
Laz. I do hate learning, and I have no skill in [the] black Art, I would I had.
Mer. Why your desire is sufficient to me, you shall stay.
Laz. The most horrible and detested curses that can be imagined, light upon all the professors of that Art; may they be drunk, and when they goe to conjure, and reel in the Circle, may the spirits by them rais'd, tear 'em in pieces, and hang their quarters on old broken walls and Steeple tops.
Mer. This speech of yours, shews you to have some skill in the Science, wherefore in civilitie, I may not suffer you to depart empty.
Laz. My stomach is up, I cannot endure it, I will fight in this quarrell as soon as for my Prince.
Draws his Rapier. [Exeunt Omnes.
Room, make way:
Hunger commands, my valour must obey.