Ant. Ay, a dog—and I'll give thee this t'other purse to let me be a dog—and to use me like a dog a little. Hurry durry—I will—here 'tis. [Gives the purse.
Aquil. Well; with all my heart. But let me beseech your dogship to play your tricks over as fast as you can, that you may come to stinking the sooner, and be turned out of doors, as you deserve.
Ant. Ay, ay—no matter for that—[He gets under the table]—that shan't move me—now, bough waugh waugh, bough waugh! [Barks like a dog.
Aquil. Hold, hold, hold, sir, I beseech you; what is't you do? If curs bite, they must be kicked, sir. Do you see? kicked thus.
Ant. Ay, with all my heart: do, kick, kick on; now I am under the table, kick again—kick harder—harder yet. Bough waugh waugh, waugh, bough—odd, I'll have a snap at thy shins—bough waugh waugh, waugh, bough—odd, she kicks bravely.
Aquil. Nay then, I'll go another way to work with you; and I think here's an instrument fit for the purpose. [Fetches a whip and a bell.] What, bite your mistress, sirrah! out, out of doors, you dog, to kennel and be hanged! Bite your mistress by the legs, you rogue! [She whips him.
Ant. Nay, pr'ythee Nacky, now thou art too loving: hurry durry, odd, I'll be a dog no longer.
Aquil. Nay, none of your fawning and grinning: but begone, or here's the discipline: what, bite your mistress by the legs, you mongrel? Out of doors—hout, hout, to kennel, sirrah! go.
Ant. This is very barbarous usage, Nacky, very barbarous: look you, I will not go—I will not stir from the door, that I resolve—hurry durry, what, shut me out? [She whips him out.
Aquil. Ay; and it you come here any more to-night, I'll have my footmen lug you, you cur! What, bite your poor mistress Nacky, sirrah?