Flam. 'T had been your part
To have made up that flaw.


Cam. True, but she loathes I should be seen in 't.


Flam. Why, sir, what 's the matter?


Cam. The duke your master visits me, I thank him;
And I perceive how, like an earnest bowler,
He very passionately leans that way
he should have his bowl run.


Flam. I hope you do not think----


Cam. That nobleman bowl booty? faith, his cheek
Hath a most excellent bias: it would fain
Jump with my mistress.


Flam. Will you be an ass,
Despite your Aristotle? or a cuckold,
Contrary to your Ephemerides,
Which shows you under what a smiling planet
You were first swaddled?