Foul.  Your Frenchman ever sweares, Sir Cutt, upon the lacke of his Lacquay, I assure you.

Goos.  See heere he comes, and my Ladies two pages, they have been tickling the vanity ont yfaith.

SCAENA TERTIA.

    Enter to them Iack, Bullaker, Will.

Ia.  Captaine Fowleweather, my Lady the Countes Eugenia commends her most kindly to you, and is determined to morrowe morning earely, if it be a frost, to take her Coach to Barnet to bee nipt; where if it please you, to meete her, and accompany her homewarde, joyning your wit with the frost, and helpe to nip her, She does not doubt but tho you had a sad supper, you will have a joyfull breakefast.

Foul.  I shall indeed, my deare youth.

Rud.  Why Captaine I abus’d thee, I see:  I said the Ladies respected thee not, and now I perceive the widow is in love with thee.

Foul.  Sblood, Knight, I knew I had strucke her to the quicke, I wondred shee departed in that extravagant fashion:  I am sure I past one Passado of Courtship upon her, that has hertofore made a lane amongst the French Ladies like a Culvering shot, Ile be sworne; and I thinke, Sir Gyles, you saw she fell under it.

Goos.  O as cleare as candlelight, by this daylight.

Rud.  O good Knight a the post[10], heele sweare anything.

Will.  The other two Ladies commend them no lesse kindly to you two Knights too; & desire your worships wood meete them at Barnet ith morning with the Captaine.

Foul.  Goos.  Rud.  O good Sir.

Goos.  Our worships shall attend their Ladiships thether.

Ia.  No Sir Gyles by no meanes, they will goe privately thether, but if you will meet them there.

Rud.  Meet them? weele die fort, but weele meet them.

Foul.  Let’s goe thether to night, Knights, and you be true Gallants.

Rud.  Content.

Ia.  How greedely they take it in, Sirra?

Goos.  No it is too farre to goe to night, weele be up betimes ith morning, and not goe to bedd at all.

Foul.  Why its but ten miles, and a fine cleere night, sir Gyles.

Goos.  But ten miles? what do ye talke, Captaine?

Rud.  Why? doost thinke its any more?

Goos.  I, Ile lay ten pounds its more than ten miles, or twelve eyther.

Rud.  What, to Barnet.

Goos.  I, to Barnet.

Rud.  Slydd, Ile lay a hundred pound with thee, if thou wilt.

Goos.  Ile lay five hundred, to a hundred.  Slight I will not be outborne with a wager, in that I know:  I am sure it was foure yeeres agon ten miles thether, and I hope tis more now.  Slydd doe not miles grow thinke you, as well as other Animals?