Gab. We'll watch him till he wakes,
Then bind him, and then torture him.
Per. 'Tis nothing.
No, take him dead drunk now without repentance,
His leachery inseam'd upon him.
Gab. Excellent.
Per. I'll do it my self; and when 'tis done, provide ye,
For we'll away for Italy this night.
Gab. We'll follow thorow all hazards.
Per. Oh false Lord,
Unmanly, mischievous; how I could curse thee;
But that but blasts thy fame; have at thy heart, fool:
Loop-holes I'll make enough to let thy life out.
Lav. Oh! does the devil ride me?
Per. Nay then.
Lav. Murder.
Nay, then take my share too.
Per. Help; oh! he has slain me.
Bloudy intentions must have bloud.