And see that surely enough he be put.
Just. That shall be done shortly, by God's grace.
Inc. What, soft, I say, me-think ye go a shameful pace;
Was there ever poor colt thus handled before?
Fie upon it, my legs be unreasonably sore;
Well, yet I will rebel, yea, and rebel again,
And though a thousand times you shouldest me restrain. [Lead him out.
Enter Time, with a similitude of dust and rust.
Time. Behold here, how Lust is converted into dust;
This is his image, his wealth and prosperity;