Though we break up a fortnight, 'tis no matter.

[RE-ENTER DOL.]

SUB. Who is it, Dol?

DOL. A fine young quodling.

FACE. O,
My lawyer's clerk, I lighted on last night,
In Holborn, at the Dagger. He would have
(I told you of him) a familiar,
To rifle with at horses, and win cups.

DOL. O, let him in.

SUB. Stay. Who shall do't?

FACE. Get you
Your robes on: I will meet him as going out.

DOL. And what shall I do?

FACE. Not be seen; away!
[EXIT DOL.]
Seem you very reserv'd.

SUB. Enough.

[EXIT.]