Arn. Yes.
Rut. And fair I dare proclaim her, Else mine eyes fail.
Arn. Fair as the bud unblasted.
Rut. I cannot blame him then, if 'twere mine own case, I would not go an Ace less.
Arn. Fye Rutilio, Why do you make your brothers misery Your sport and game?
Rut. There is no pastime like it.
Arn. I look'd for your advice, your timely Counsel, How to avoid this blow, not to be mockt at, And my afflictions jeer'd.
Rut. I tell thee Arnoldo,
An thou wert my Father, as thou art but my Brother,
My younger Brother too, I must be merry.
And where there is a wench yet can, a young wench,
A handsome wench, and sooner a good turn too,
An I were to be hang'd, thus must I handle it.
But you shall see Sir, I can change this habit
To do you any service; advise what you please,
And see with what Devotion I'le attend it?
But yet me thinks, I am taken with this Custom,
[Enter Charino and Zenocia.
And could pretend to th' place.