Phy. How, Boy?
Boy. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence, I pray yee.
Phy. Most ingenious!
Acu. O muffle muffle, good Graccus, do not taint thy sence
With sight of these infectious animalles,
'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand
To governe sence, to see and shun the sight.
Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest;
Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.'
Scil. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce ye, sir?
Serv. Horison!
Scil. Horison:—the Widowes mite, sir.
Serv. Not for the Soldans crown, sir.
Scil. Indeede yee shall, by this bright horison ye shall; beleeve me, if I sweare, I think myself beholding for I know it to be no common oath.
Serv. Were it common it past not these doores; Sir, I shift my oathes, as I wash my hands, twice in the artificial day; for in dialoguising, tis to be observ'd, your sentences, must ironically, metaphorically, and altogether figuratively, [be] mixt with your morning oathes.