[Exeunt.]
[Enter Clare, Jerningham, and Milliscent.]
CLARE.
Franke Jerningham!
JERNINGHAM.
Speak softly, rogue; how now?
CLARE. S'foot, we shall lose our way, it's so dark; whereabouts are we?
JERNINGHAM. Why, man, at Potters gate; the way lies right: hark! the clock strikes at Enfield; what's the hour?
CLARE.
Ten, the bell says.
JERNINGHAM.
A lies in's throat, it was but eight when we set out of
Chesson. Sir John and his Sexton are at ale to night, the
clock runs at random.
CLARE. Nay, as sure as thou liv'st, the villanous vicar is abroad in the chase this dark night: the stone Priest steals more venison then half the country.
JERNINGHAM.
Milliscent, how dost thou?