Boy. Sir, you forget your self.
Laz. Was never seen so rare a head,
Of any Fish alive or dead.
Boy. Good Sir remember: this is the house, Sir.
Laz. Cursed be he that dare not venture.
Boy. Pity your self, Sir, and leave this fury.
Laz. For such a prize, and so I enter.
[Exit Lazarello and Boy.
Pan. Dun's i'th' mire, get out again how he can:
My honest gallant, I'll shew you one trick more
Than e'er the fool your father dream'd of yet.
Madona Julia?
Enter Madona Julia, a Whore.
Julia. What news my sweet rogue, my dear sins-broker, what? good news?