Bell. I know not against which most to inveigh:
For both of you are damned so equally.
Thou never spar’st for oaths, swear’st any thing,
As if thy soul were made of shoe-leather:
“God damn me, gentleman, if she be within!”
When in the next room she’s found dallying.
Rog. If it be my vocation to swear, every man in his vocation: I hope my betters swear and damn themselves, and why should not I?
Bell. Roger, you cheat kind gentlemen.
Rog. The more gulls they.
Bell. Slave, I cashier thee.
Mis. F. An you do cashier him, he shall be entertained.
Rog. Shall I? then blurt[191] a’ your service.
Bell. As hell would have it, entertained by you!
I dare the devil himself to match those two. [Exit.
Mis. F. Marry gup, are you grown so holy, so pure, so honest with a pox?
Rog. Scurvy honest punk! but stay, madonna, how must our agreement be now? for, you know, I am to have all the comings-in at the hall-door, and you at the chamber-door.