Leo. Not half so troublesom as you are to your self, Sir;
Was that brave Heart made to pant for a placket:
And now i'th' dog-days too, when nothing dare love!
That noble Mind to melt away and moulder
For a hey nonny, nonny! Would I had a Glass here,
To shew ye what a pretty toy ye are turn'd to.
Dem. My wretched Fortune.
Leo. Will ye but let me know her?
I'll once turn Bawd: go to, they are good mens offices,
And not so contemptible as we take 'em for:
And if she be above ground, and a Woman;
I ask no more; I'll bring her o' my back, Sir,
By this hand I will, and I had as lieve bring the Devil,
I care not who she be, nor where I have her;
And in your arms, or the next Bed deliver her,
Which you think fittest, and when you have danc'd your galliard.
Dem. Away, and fool to them are so affected: O thou art gone, and all my comfort with thee! Wilt thou do one thing for me?
Leo. All things i'th' World, Sir, Of all dangers.
Dem. Swear.
Leo. I will.
Dem. Come near me no more then.
Leo. How?
Dem. Come no more near me: Thou art a plague-sore to me. [Exit.