_Exit._
_Lil._ You have giv'n him a heat, Sir. _Mir._ He will ride you
The better, Lil. _And._ Wee'l teach him to meddle with Scholars.
_Mir._ he shall make good his promise t'increase thy Farm, _Andrew_
Or Ile jeere him to death, feare nothing _Lilly_,
I am thy Champion. This jeast goes to _Charles_,
And then Ile hunt him out, and Monsieur _Eustace_
The gallant Courtier, and laugh heartily
To see'm mourne together. _And._ Twill be rare, Sir. _Exeunt._
_Actus 5. Scaena 1._
Eustace, Egremont. Cowsy.
Turn'd out of doores and baffled! _Egre._ We share with you
In the affront. _Cow._ Yet beare it not like you
With such dejection. _Eust._ My Coach and horses made
The ransome of our cowardize. _Lew._ _Cow._ Pish, that's nothing,
Tis _Damnum reparabile_, and soone recover'd.
_Egre._ It is but feeding a suitor with false hopes,
And after squeeze him with a dozen of oathes.
You are new rigg'd, and this no more remembred.
_Eust._ And does the Court that should be the example
And Oracle of the Kingdome, read to us
No other doctrine! _Egre._ None that thrives so well
As that, within my knowledge. _Cow._ Flatterie rubbes out,
But since great men learne to admire themselves,
Tis something crest-falne. _Egre._ To be of no Religion,
Argues a subtle moral understanding,
And it is often cherisht. _Eust._ Pietie then,
And valour, nor to doe nor suffer wrong,
Are they no vertues? _Egre.
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