By all the Gods in Egypt, the perfumes
That went to trimming these cloathes, cost me—
Sce. Thou stinkest still.
Sep. The powdering of this head too—
Sce. If thou hast it,
I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet Arabia
Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee,
To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee.
Ant. I smell him now: fie, how the Knave perfumes him,
How strong he scents of Traitor!