Zab. I'le teach him a new dance,
For playing fast and loose with such a Lady.
Come fellows, come: I'le execute your anger,
And to the full.
Hip. His scorn shall feel my vengeance.— [Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Sulpicia and Jaques.
Sul. Shall I never see a lusty man again?
Ja. Faith Mistress You do so over-labour 'em when you have 'em, And so dry-founder 'em, they cannot last.
Sul. Where's the French-man?
Ja. Alas, he's all to fitters, and lyes, taking the height of his fortune with a Syringe. He's chin'd, he's chin'd good man, he is a mourner.
Sul. What's become of the Dane?
Ja. Who? goldy-locks?
He's foul i'th' touch-hole; and recoils again,
The main Spring's weaken'd that holds up his cock,
He lies at the sign of the Sun, to be new breech'd.