Tho.  I hope it is gameing gold.

Un.  He shall read warres to me and fortification.

Tho.  I can teach you to build a sconce[221], sir.

Un.  Beside, he is very valiant; he beate me twice when he was drunk, but, poore fellow, I ask’d him forgivenes the next day.  Make hast, good Thomas, and remember all the Tacticks.

Tho.  I warrant you, Sir:  I know ’em well enough. [Exit.

Un.  So, so; here’s Sir Richard.

    Enter Sir Richrd Huntlove, his Ladie and Mistresse Dorothy.

Sir Rich.  Me thinkes you looke more sprightly since you were made a Captaine.

Un.  Oh, good Sir Richard, indeed my face is the worst part about mee; and yet it will serve at the Muster.

Do.  Serve!  With reverence to the title, I have seene a Generall with a worse Countenance.  It is a good leading face, and though you have no cut ore the nose or other visible scarre, which I doubt not but you may receave all in good tyme, it is a quarrelling face and fitt for a man of warre.

Un.  I thanke you, sweet mistress Dorothy:  I will commend you as much when you are in the Countrey.—­But doe you resolve to goe downe this morning, Sir?

Sir Rich.  By all meanes:  is your sister readie? bid the Coachman make hast, and have a care you leave none of your trinketts behind:  after a little dialogue with my scrivenour Ile returne, and then to Coach.

Lady.  But why this expedition, this posting out of towne as the Aire were infected?

Sir Rich.  The[222] truth is, my sweet Ladie, we have no Exchange in the Country, no playes, no Masques, no Lord Maiors day, no gulls nor gallifoists[223].  Not so many Ladies to visit and weare out my Coach wheeles, no dainty Madams in Childbedd to set you a longing when you come home to lie in with the same fashion’d Curtaines and hangings, such curious silver Andirons, Cupbord of plate and pictures.  You may goe to Church in the Countrey without a new Satten gowne, and play at penny gleeke[224] with a Justice of peaces wife and the parsons; show your white hand with but one Diamond when you carve and not be asham’d to weare your owne wedding ring with the old poesie.  There are no Doctors to make you sick wife; no legends of lies brought home by yong gallants that fill my Dyning roome with fleas and new fashions, that will write verses upon the handle of your fanne and comend the education of your Monkey, which is so like their worships as they were all of one familie.  I have no humour to provokeing meates; I will downe and enter into a Christian diett, Madam.  There is sport in killing my owne partridge and pheasant; my Trowtes will cost me less than your Lobsters and crayfish drest with amber greece[225], and I may renew my acquaintance with mutton and bold chines of beefe; entertaine my tenants, that would pay for my housekeeping all the yeere and thanke my worship at Christmas, over and above their rents, with Turkies and Beeves of supererogation.  You may guesse I have some reason to change the aire, wife, and so I leave you to prepare your selfe:  You have my purpose and may expect mee.
                                                               [Exit.