FUL.  With all my heart; I am no rat-catcher;
But if you need a poison, here is that
Will pepper both your dogs, and rats, and cats: 
Nay, spare your purse:  I give this in good will;
And, as it proves, I pray you send to me,
And let me know.  Would you aught else with me?

AMIN. Minime quidem; here’s that you say will take them? 
A thousand thanks, sweet sir; I say to you,
As Tully in his Aesop’s Fables said
Ago tibi gratias; so farewell, vale!
                                   [Exit.

FUL.  Adieu!  Come, let us go; I long to see,
What the event of this new jest will be.

    Enter YOUNG ARTHUR.

Y. ART.  Good morrow, gentleman; saw you not this way,
As you were walking, Sir Aminadab?

ANS.  Master Arthur, as I take it?

Y. ART.  Sir, the same.

ANS.  Sir, I desire your more familiar love: 
Would I could bid myself unto your house,
For I have wish’d for your acquaintance long.

Y. ART.  Sweet Master Anselm, I desire yours too;
Will you come dine with me at home to-morrow? 
You shall be welcome, I assure you, sir.

ANS.  I fear, sir, I shall prove too bold a guest.

Y. ART.  You shall be welcome, if you bring your friend.

FUL.  O Lord, sir, we shall be too troublesome.

Y. ART.  Nay, now I will enforce a promise from you: 
Shall I expect you?

FUL.  Yes, with all my heart.

ANS.  A thousand thanks.  Yonder’s the schoolmaster. 
So, till to-morrow, twenty times farewell.

Y. ART.  I double all your farewells twenty-fold.

ANS.  O, this acquaintance was well scrap’d of me;
By this my love to-morrow I shall see.

[Exeunt ANSELM and FULLER.

Enter AMINADAB.

AMIN.  This poison shall by force expel Amorem, love, infernum, hell. Per hoc venenum, ego, I For my sweet lovely lass will die.

Y. ART.  What do I hear of poison; which sweet means
Must make me a brave frolic widower? 
It seems the doting fool, being forlorn,
Hath got some compound mixture in despair,
To end his desperate fortunes and his life;
I’ll get it from him, and with this make way
To my wife’s night and to my love’s fair day.

AMIN. In nomine domini, friends, farewell! 
I know death comes, here’s such a smell!
Pater et mater, father and mother,
Frater et soror, sister and brother,
And my sweet Mary, not these drugs
Do send me to the infernal bugs,
But thy unkindness; so, adieu! 
Hob-goblins, now I come to you.

Y. ART.  Hold, man, I say! what will the madman do?
                      [Takes away the supposed poison. 
Ay, have I got thee? thou shalt go with me. [Aside. 
No more of that; fie, Sir Minadab! 
Destroy yourself!  If I but hear hereafter
You practise such revenge upon yourself,
All your friends shall know that for a wench—­
A paltry wench—­you would have kill’d yourself.