Young Lo. You shall Sir To your bunch again, or I'le miss foully.
Enter Morecraft.
Mor. Save you Gentleman, save you.
Young Lo. Now Polecat, what young Rabets nest have you to draw?
Mor. Come, prethee be familiar Knight.
Young Lo. Away Fox, I'le send for Terriers for you.
Mor. Thou art wide yet: I'le keep thee companie.
Young Lo. I am about some business; Indentures, If ye follow me I'le beat you: take heed, A I live I'le cancel your Coxcomb.
Mor. Thou art cozen'd now, I am no usurer: What poor fellow's this?
Savil. I am poor indeed Sir.