_Serv_. A graceful enquirie, and well observ'd: Sir, my company shall
make ye copious of novelties, let your Tables befriend your memorie:
write, 'by this bright Horrison.'
_Phy_. 'Here's[231] none but only I' [_sing_]; Boy, how likest thou my
head of hayre?
_Boy_. Your Glasse may flatter ye, but truely I will not; your head is
not a hayre better than it should be.
_Phy_. Is there any scarcitie of haire, Boy?
_Boy_. Somewhat thin and yet there is more hayre than wit.[232]
_Phy_. How, Boy?
_Boy_. Then wit of man can number sir, take it i'th right sence,
I pray yee.
_Phy_. Most ingenious!
_Acu_. O muffle muffle, good _Graccus_, do not taint thy sence
With sight of these infectious animalles,
'Less[233] reason in thee have the upper hand
To governe sence, to see and shun the sight.
Here's new discovered sins, past all the rest;
Men strive to practice how to sweare the best.'
_Scil_. I have quoted it, sir; by this bright Hore, Horeson, pronounce
ye, sir?
_Serv_. Horison!
_Scil_. Horison:--the Widowes mite, sir.
_Serv_.
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