Gui. Alas, poor wench, thy husband’s circumcised!
Clar. Begot when thy father’s face was toward th’ east,
To show that thou would’st prove a caterpiller.
His Messias shall not save thee from me; 160
I’ll send thee to him in collops!
Gui. O fry not in choler so, sir!
Rog. Mountebank, with thy pedantical action—
Rimatrix, Bugloss,[150] Rhinoceros!
Men. Gentlemen, I conjure you
By the virtues of men!
Rog. Shall any broken quacksalver’s bastard oppose him to me in my nuptials? No; but I’ll show him better metal than e’er the gallemawfrey[151] his father used. Thou scum of his melting-pots, that wert christen’d in a crusoile[152] with Mercury’s water to[153] show thou wouldest prove a stinging aspis! for all thou spitt’st is aqua fortis, and thy breath is a compound of poison’s stillatory: if I get within thee, hadst thou the scaly hide of a crocodile, as thou art partly of his nature, I would leave thee as bare as an anatomy[154] at the second viewing. 176
Clar. Thou Jew of the tribe of Gad that, I were[155] sure, were there none here but thou and I, wouldst teach me the art of breathing; thou wouldst run like a dromedary!
Rog. Thou that art the tall’st man of Christendom when thou art alone; if thou dost maintain this to my face, I’ll make thee skip like an ounce.[156]
Men. Nay, good sir, be you still.
Rog. Let the quacksalver’s son be still:
His father was still, and still, and still again! 185