Sir Gyles Goosecappe, Knight.

Actvs Primvs.

SCAENA PRIMA.

    Enter Bullaker with a Torche.

Bullaker.  This is the Countesse Eugenias house, I thinke.  I can never hit of theis same English City howses, tho I were borne here:  if I were in any City in Fraunce, I could find any house there at midnight.

    Enter Iack, and Will.

Iack.  Theis two strange hungry Knights (Will) make the leanest trenchers that ever I waited on.

Will.  A plague on them Iack; they leave us no fees at all, for our attendance.  I thinke they use to set their bones in silver they pick them so cleane.—­See, see, see, Iack, whats that.

Iack.  A my word (Will) tis the great Baboone, that was to be seen in Southwarke.

Will.  Is this he?  Gods my life what beastes were we, that we wood not see him all this while, never trust me if he looke not somewhat like a man:  see how pretely he holds the torche in one of his forefeete:  wheres his keeper trowe, is he broke loose?

Iack.  Hast ever an Apple about thee (Will)?  Weele take him up; sure, we shall get a monstrous deale of mony with him.

Will.  That we shall yfath, boy! and looke thou here, heres a red cheeckt apple to take him up with.

Ia.  Excellent fit a my credit; lets lay downe our provant, and to him.

Bul.  Ile let them alone a while.

Ia.  Give me the apple to take up Iack, because my name is Iack.

Will.  Hold thee, Iack, take it.

Ia.  Come, Iack, come, Iack, come, Iack.

Bul.  I will come to you sir, Ile Iack ye a my word, Ile Iack ye.

Will.  Gods me he speakes, Iack.  O pray pardon us, Sir.

Bul.  Out, ye mopede monckies, can yee not knowe a man from a Marmasett, in theis Frenchified dayes of ours? nay, ile Iackefie you a little better yet.

Both.  Nay good Sir, good Sir, pardon us.

Bul.  Pardon us! out ye home-bred peasants, plain English, pardon us? if you had parled, & not spoken, but said Pardonne moy, I wood have pardon’d you, but since you speake and not parley, I will cudgell ye better yet.

Ambo. O pardonne moy, mounsieur.

Bul. Bien je vous remercy; thers pardonne four vous, sir, now.

Will.  Why I thanke ye for it, Sir; you seeme to bee a Squire of our order Sir.

Ia.  Whose page might you be Sir.