DION. He looks like an old surfeited stallion, dull as a dormouse. See how he sinks!
THRA. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough. His greatest fault is, he hunts too much in the purlieus; would he would leave off poaching!
DION. And for his horn, has left it at the lodge where he lay late. Oh, hes a precious limehound!2 Turn him loose upon the pursuit of a lady, and if se lose her, hang him up i the slip. When my foxbitch Beauty grows proud, Ill borrow him.
KING. Tis well done. Hark ye further. [They talk apart.]
CLE. Ist possible this fellow should repent? Methinks, that were not noble in him; and yet he looks like a mortified member, as if he had a sick mans salve3 ins mouth. If a worse man had done this fault now, some physical4 justice or other would presently (without the help of an almanack5) have opened the obstructions of his liver, and let him blood with a dog-whip.
DION. See, see how modestly yon lady looks, as if she came from churching with her neighbour! Why, what a devil can a man see in her face but that shes honest!6
THRA. Faith, no great matter to speak of; a foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her coat;7 but he must be a cunning herald that finds it.
DION. See how they muster one another! Oh, theres a rank regiment where the devil carries the colours and his dam drum-major! Now the world and the flesh come behind with the carriage.8
CLE. Sure this lady has a good turn done her against her will; before she was common talk, now none dare say cantharides9 can stir her. Her face looks like a warrant, willing and commanding all tongues, as they will answer it, to be tied up and bolted when this lady means to let herself loose. As I live, she has got her a goodly protection and a gracious; and may use her body discreetly for her healths sake, once a week, excepting Lent and dog-days. Oh, if they were to be got for money, what a great sum would come out of the city for these licences!