Viol. I laugh at this, proceed.
Jam.
This Soul I speak of,
Or rather Salt to keep this heap of flesh
From being a walking stench, like a large Inn,
Stands open for the entertainment of
All impious practices: but there's no Corner
An honest thought can take up: and as it were not
Sufficient in your self to comprehend
All wicked plots, you have taught the Fool, my Brother,