Rut. Hark ye Lady, You may require sometimes—
Sul. I by my faith.
Rut. And you shall have it by my faith, and handsomly:
This old Cat will suck shrewdly: you have no Daughters?
I flye at all: now am I in my Kingdom.
Tug at an Oar? no, tug in a Feather-bed,
With good warm Caudles; hang your bread and water,
I'le make you young again, believe that Lady.
I will so frubbish you.
Sul. Come, follow Officers, This Gentleman is free: I'le pay the Duckets.
Rut. And when you catch me in your City-powdring-tub Again, boil me with Cabbidge.
1 Offi. You are both warn'd and arm'd Sir. [Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Leopold, Hippolyta, Zenocia.
Zen. Will your Ladyship wear this Dressing?
Hip. Leave thy prating: I care not what I wear.