Esop. I have no Time now to throw away upon Points of Generosity; I have hotter Work upon my Hands. Come, Priest, advance.
Lear. Pray, hold him fast there; he has the Devil and all of Mischief in's Eye.
Esop. [To Euph.] Will your Ladyship please, Ma'am, to give me your fair Hand——Hey-dey!
[She refuses her Hand.
Lear. I'll give it you, my noble Lord, if she won't. [Aside.] A stubborn, self-will'd, stiff-neck'd Strumpet.
[Learchus holds out her Hand to Esop, who takes it; Oronces stands on Esop's left Hand, and the Priest before 'em.
Esop. Let my Rival stand next me: Of all Men, I'd have him be satisfy'd.
Oron. Barbarous, inhuman Monster!
Esop. Now, Priest, do thy Office.
[Flourish with the Trumpets.