[MUTE HOLDS UP A FINGER BENT.]
--Good: half a quarter? 'tis well. And have you given him a key,
to come in without knocking?
[MUTE MAKES A LEG.]
--good. And is the lock oil'd, and the hinges, to-day?
[MUTE MAKES A LEG.]
--good. And the quilting of the stairs no where worn out, and
bare?
[MUTE MAKES A LEG.]
--Very good. I see, by much doctrine, and impulsion, it may be
effected: stand by. The Turk, in this divine discipline, is
admirable, exceeding all the potentates of the earth; still waited
on by mutes; and all his commands so executed; yea, even in the
war, as I have heard, and in his marches, most of his charges
and directions given by signs, and with silence: an exquisite
art! and I am heartily ashamed, and angry oftentimes, that the
princes of Christendom should suffer a barbarian to transcend
them in so high a point of felicity. I will practise it hereafter.
[A HORN WINDED WITHIN.]
--How now? oh! oh! what villain, what prodigy of mankind is that?
look.
[EXIT MUTE.]
--[HORN AGAIN.]
--Oh! cut his throat, cut his throat! what murderer, hell-hound,
devil can this be?

[RE-ENTER MUTE.]

MUTE: It is a post from the court--