But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants,
You would refine, and learn an apter language;
I have done ye simple service on your Pompey,
You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve months
And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles,
Had not this fortunate hand—
Ant. He brags on't too:
By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch
Thou most contemptible Slave.
Sce. Dog, mangy Mongrel,