Pene.  Nor crackt them neyther.

Ta.  That I know not; indeed I wood be loath to lie though he be my kinsman, to speake more then I know by him.

Eug.  Well, forth my Lord.

Ta.  He has an excellent skill in all manner of perfumes, & if you bring him gloves from forty pence, to forty shillings a paire, he will tell you the price of them to two pence.

Hip.  A pretty sweet quality beleeve me.

Tales.  Nay Lady he will perfume you gloves himselfe most delicately, and give them the right Spanish Titillation.

Pene.  Titillation what’s that my Lord?

Tal.  Why, Lady, tis a pretty kinde of terme new come up in perfuming, which they call a Titillation.

Hip.  Very well expounded, my Lord; forth with your kinsmans parts I pray.

Tal.  He is the best Sempster of any woman in England, and will worke you needle-worke-edgings, and French purles, from an Angell to foure Angells a yarde.

Eug.  That’s pretious ware indeed.

Tal.  He will worke you any flower to the life, as like it as if it grew in the very place, and being a delicate perfumer, he will give it you his perfect, and naturall savour.

Hip.  This is wonderfull; forth, sweet Lord Tales.

Tal.  He will make you flyes, and wormes, of all sorts most lively, and is now working a whole bed embrodred, with nothing but glowe wormes; whose lights a has so perfectly done, that you may goe to bed in the Chamber, doe any thing in the Chamber, without a Candle.

Pene.  Never trust me, if it be not incredible; forth my good Lord.

Tal.  He is a most excellent Turner, and will turne you wassel-bowles, and posset Cuppes caru’d with libberds faces, and Lyons heads with spouts in their mouths, to let out the posset Ale, most artificially.

Eug.  Forth, good Lord Tales.

Pene.  Nay, good my Lord no more; you have spoken for him thoroughly I warrant you.

Hip.  I lay my life Cupid has shot my sister in love with him out of your lips, my Lord.

Eug.  Well, come in, my Lords, and take a bad Dinner with me now, and we will all goe with you at night to a better supper with the Lord and Lady Furnifall.

King. Tale.  We attend you, honorable Ladies.

Exeunt.

Actvs Tertii.

SCAENA PRIMA.

    Enter Rudesby, Goosecappe.

Rud. Bullaker.

Bul.  I, Sir.

Rud.  Ride, and catch the Captaines Horse.

Bul.  So I doe Sir.

Rud.  I wonder, Sir Gyles, you wood let him goe so, and not ride after him.

Goos.  Wood I might never be mortall sir Cutt:  if I rid not after him, till my horse sweat, so that he had nere a dry thread on him, and hollod, and hollod to him to stay him, till I had thought my fingers ends wood have gon off with hollowings; Ile be sworne to yee, & yet he ran his way like a Diogenes, and would never stay for us.