Ant. Here's the old hypocrite again.—Now stand your ground and bate him not an inch. Remember the jewels, the rich and glorious jewels; they are designed to be yours, by virtue of prerogative.
Must. Let me alone to pick a quarrel; I have an old grudge to him upon thy account.
Muf. [Making up to the Mobile.] Good people, here you are met together.
1 Rabble. Ay, we know that without your telling: But why are we met together, doctor? for that's it which no body here can tell.
2 Rabble. Why, to see one another in the dark; and to make holiday at midnight.
Muf. You are met, as becomes good Mussulmen, to settle the nation; for I must tell you, that, though your tyrant is a lawful emperor, yet your lawful emperor is but a tyrant.
Ant. What stuff he talks!
Must. 'Tis excellent fine matter, indeed, slave Antonio! He has a rare tongue! Oh, he would move a rock, or elephant!
Ant. What a block have I to work upon! [Aside.]—But still, remember the jewels, sir; the jewels.
Must. Nay, that's true, on the other side; the 400 jewels must be mine. But he has a pure fine way of talking; my conscience goes along with him, but the jewels have set my heart against him.