Mildewe. Lett me hugg thee
For this, deare frend; heareafter I will style thee
My better genius; thou hast monied mee in this,
Nay landed me, made me thy braynes executor,
And putt mee in a lardge possession.
Go hyre a barke.
Sarlab. I shall.
Mildewe. And instantly.
Sarlab. I shall.
Mildewe. Ere night wee'l putt into a sea No larger then our full stretcht consciences. Lett mee once more Imbrace thee. [Exeunt.
SCENA 2.
Enter an Abbot with his covent[59] of Fryars, amongst them Fryar Jhon, and Fryar Ritchard.
Abbot. As I have heare priority of place, Boathe by our patrons favour and your voyce, So give me leave to arbitrate amongst you.
Fr. Jhon. Without respect of person wee acknowledge you. Our prince and cheiff.
Fr. Rich. And to your fatherly And grave advyse humbly submitt our selves.