Mi. Bar. Should I not, sir? should I not hate a harlot,
That robs me of my right, vilde boye? 400
Mi. Gou. That tytle I returne unto thy teeth,
[Exeunt Francis and Mall.]
And spit the name of harlot in thy face.
Mi. Bar. Well, tis not time of night to hold out chat
With such a scold as thou art; therefore now
Thinke that I hate thee as I doe the devill. 405
Mi. Gou. The devill take thee, if thou dost not, wretch!
Mi. Bar. Out upon thee, strumpet!