Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/207

] Torcular. No, I will be just to a scruple.

Peridor. Well said, well said: out with it.

Torcular. Put down two old ladies more.

Peridor. I' th' name of wonder, how could he think of old

In such variety of young?

Torcular. Alas! I could never be quiet for them.

Peridor. Poor gentleman!

Well, what's to be done with him now? Shall he

Be thrown into the caldron with the cuckolds?

Thief. Or with the jealous? that's the hotter place.

Peridor. Thou mistakest; 'tis the same: they go together

still. Jealous and cuckolds differ no otherwise than

sheriff and alderman: a little time makes the one th' other.

What think you of gelding him, and sending him to earth

again amongst his women? 'Twould be like throwing a

dead fly into an ant's nest; there should be such tearing

and pulling, and getting up upon him, they would worry

the poor thing to death!

1st Thief. Excellent! Or leave a string, as they do

sometimes in young colts. Desire and impotence would

be a rare punishment.

Peridor. Fie, fie, the common disease of age! every old man has it.

A prize, a prize, a prize!

Orsabrin. This must be hell, by the noise!

Tamoren. Set him down, set him down: bring forth

The newest rack and flaming pinching-irons.

This is a stubborn piece of flesh: 'twould have broke loose.

Orsabrin. So,

This comes of wishing myself with devils again!

Peridor. What art?

Orsabrin. The slave of chance; one of Fortune's fools:

A thing she kept alive on earth to make her sport.

Peridor. Thy name?

Orsabrin. Orsabrin.

Peridor. Ha! he that liv'd with pirates?

Was lately in a storm?

Orsabrin. The very same.

Tamoren. Such respect as you have paid to me— [Whispers with Peridor