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Jonson, Ben, 1573-1637

"Cynthia's Revels"


HED. I hope, I shall have my Honour's copy.
PHA. You are Ambitious in that, Hedon.
RE-ENTER ANAIDES.
AMO. How now, Anaides! what is it hath conjured up this
distemperature in the circle of your face?
ANA. Why, what have you to do? A pox upon your filthy travelling
face! hold your tongue.
HED. Nay, dost hear, Mischief?
ANA. Away, musk-cat!
AMO. I say to thee thou art rude, debauch'd, impudent, coarse,
unpolish'd, a frapler, and base.
HED. Heart of my father, what a strange alteration has half a
year's haunting of ordinaries wrought in this fellow! that came
with a tufftaffata jerkin to town but the other day, and a pair of
pennyless hose, and now he is turn'd Hercules, he wants but a club.
ANA. Sir, you with the pencil on your chin; I will garter my hose
with your guts, and that shall be all. [EXIT.]
MER. 'Slid, what rare fireworks be here? flash, flash.
PHA. What is the matter Hedon? can you tell?
HED. Nothing, but that he lacks crowns, and thinks we'll lend him
some to be friends.
RE-ENTER ASOTUS AND MORIA, WITH MORUS.
ASO. Come sweet lady, in good truth I'll have it, you shall not
deny me. Morus, persuade your aunt I may have her picture, by any
means.


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