Scil. Faith, tis verie true.
Accu. That he neither knowes what he saies nor thou understandest.
Serv. As for example, by this illuminate welkin.
Scil. Oh excellent! it shall be downe to.
Accut. There's another Ducket. He utters his oathes apace.
Sure this Villaine has no soule, and for gold
Heele damn his body too, hee's at peace with hell
And brings his Merchandise from thence to sell.
Boy. I have heere two Mistresses, but if the best were chosen out, if Poliphemus tother eye were out his choice might be as good as Argus broade waking, so difficult is the difference.
Phy. Boy, sleepe wayward thoughts?
Boy. Sir.
Phy. Is it not now most amyable and faire?
Boy. Yes sir, God be praised.