Mal. I will not.
Serv. Sir, I dare not tell him so;
[Knocking again more fiercely.
My hair stands up in bristles when I see him;
The dogs run into corners; the spay'd bitch
Bays at his back, and howls[20].
Mal. Bid him enter, and go off thyself.[Exit Serv.
Scene closes upon the company.
108 Enter Melanax, an hour-glass in his hand, almost empty.
How dar'st thou interrupt my softer hours?
By heaven, I'll ram thee in some knotted oak,
Where thou shalt sigh, and groan to whistling winds,
Upon the lonely plain.
Or I'll confine thee deep in the red sea, groveling on the sands,
Ten thousand billows rolling o'er thy head.
Mel. Hoh, hoh, hoh!
Mal. Laughest thou, malicious fiend?
I'll ope my book of bloody characters,
Shall rumple up thy tender airy limbs,
Like parchment in a flame.
Mel. Thou can'st not do it.
Behold this hour-glass.
Mal. Well, and what of that?