m off so well. What will you take Sir
To beat a fellow for me, that thus wrong'd me?

_Bra._ To beat him say you?

_Leop._ Yes, beat him to lameness,
To cut his lips or nose off; any thing,
That may disfigure him.

_Bra._ Let me consider?
Five hundred pistolets for such a service
I think were no dear penniworth.

_Zab._ Five hundred!
Why there are of your Brother-hood in the City,
I'le undertake, shall kill a man for twenty.

_Bra._ Kill him? I think so; I'le kill any man
For half the mony.

_Leop._ And will you ask more
For a sound beating than a murther?

_Bra._ I Sir,
And with good reason, for a dog that's dead,
The Spanish proverb says, will never bite:
But should I beat or hurt him only, he may
Recover, and kill me.

_Leo._ A good conclusion,
The obduracie of this rascal makes me tender.
I'le run some other course, there's your reward
Without the employment.

_Bra._ For that as you please Sir;
When you have need to kill a man, pray use me,
But I am out at beating. [_Exit._

_Zab._ What's to be done then?

_Leop._ I'le tell thee _Zabulon_, and make thee privy
To my most near designs: this stranger, which
_Hippolyta_ so dotes on, was my prisoner
When the last Virgin, I bestowed upon her,
Was made my prize; how he escaped, hereafter
I'le let thee know; and it may be the love
He bears the servant, makes him scorn the Mistris.

_Zab._ 'Tis not unlike; for the first time he saw her
His looks exprest so much, and for more proof
Since he came to my Ladys house, though yet
He never knew her, he hath practis'd with me
To help him to a conference, without
The knowledge of _Hippolyta_; which I promis'd.

_Leop._ And by all means perform it for their meeting,
But work it so, that my disdainful Mistris
(Whom, notwithstanding all her injuries,
'Tis my hard fate to love) may see and hear them.

_Zab._ To what end Sir?

_Leop._ This _Zabulon_: when she sees
Who is her rival, and her Lovers baseness
To leave a Princess for her bondwoman,
The sight will make her scorn, what now she dotes on,
I'le double thy reward.

_Zab._ You are like to speed then:
For I confess what you will soon believe,
We serve them best that are most apt to give,
For you, I'le place you where you shall see all, and yet be unobserv'd.

_Leop._ That I desire too. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Arnoldo.

_Arn._ I cannot see her yet, how it afflicts me
The poyson of this place should mix it self
With her pure thou