Wild. The dogs
Are only fit for hanging! -

Lash. Finer bred -

Wild. Sirrah, if more to me thou talkest of dogs,
Horses, or aught that to thy craft belongs,
Thou mayst go hang for me!--A cordwainer
Go fetch me straight--the choicest in the town.
Away, sir! Do thy errands smart and well
As thou canst crack thy whip! [LASH goes out.]
Dear neighbour Constance,
I'll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee!

[Goes out.]


SCENE II.


[Enter WIDOW GREEN and LYDIA.]

W. Green. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller calls,
I shall be in at three; and say the same
To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet! -
What progress, think you, make I in the heart
Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl,
It is a heart to win and man as well!
How speed I, think you? Didst, as I desired,