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S. Ant. By what rule, sir?

S. Dro. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of Father Time himself.

S. Ant. Let’s hear it.

S. Dro. There’s no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature.

S. Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery?

S. Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig, and recover the lost hair of another man.

S. Ant. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being (as it is) so plentiful an excrement?

S. Dro. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts, and what he hath scanted [men] in hair he hath given them in wit.

S. Ant. Why, but there’s many a man hath more hair than wit.

S. Dro. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.

S. Ant. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.

S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity.

S. Ant. For what reason?

S. Dro. For two—and sound ones too.

S. Ant. Nay, not sound, I pray you.

S. Dro. Sure ones then.

S. Ant. Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.

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