id="id00139">Eug. Ile take order with the Porter for it, Lady: good night, gentlemen.

Ru. Why good night, and be hangd, and you'l needs be gon.

Goos. God give you good night Madams, thanke you for my good cheere, weele tickle the vanity ant no longer with you at this time but ile indite your La. to supper at my lodging one of these mornings; and that ere long too, because we are all mortall you know.

Eu, Light the Lady Penelope, and the Lady Hippolyta to their Chambers; good night faire Ladies.

Hip. Good night, Madam; I wish you may sleep well after your light supper.

Eug, I warrant you, Lady, I shall never be troubled with dreaming of my French Suter. [Exeunt.

Ru. Why how now my Frenchified captain Fowlweather? by Cods ludd thy Surname is never thought upon here, I perceive heeres nobody gives thee any commendations.

Fo. Why this is the untravaild rudnes of our grose Englesh Ladies now; would any French Lady use a man thus thinke ye? be they any way so uncivill, and fulsome? they say they weare fowle smockes, and course smockes; I say they lie, and I will die int.

Rud. I, doe so, pray thee, thou shalt die in a very honorable cause, thy countries generall quarrell right.

Foul. Their smockes, quoth you? a my word you shall take them up so white, and so pure, so sweet, so Emphaticall, so mooving—

Rud. I marry Sir, I thinke they be continually moving.

Foul. But if their smockes were course or foule.

Rud. Nay I warrant thee thou carest not, so thou wert at them.

Foul. S'death they put not all their virtues in their smockes, or in their mockes, or in their stewde cockes as our Ladies doe.

Rud. But in their stewd pox, thers all their gentilitie.

Goos. Nay, good Sir Cutt., doe not agravate him no more.

Foul. Then they are so kinde, so wise, so familiar, so noble, so sweet in entertainment, that when you shall have cause to descourse or sometimes to come neerer them; if your breath be ill, your teeth ill, or any thing about you ill, why they will presently breake with ye, in kinde sort, good termes, pretty experiments, and tell you plaine this; thus it is with your breath, Sir, thus it is with your teeth, Sir, this is your disease, and this is your medicine.

Goos. As I am true mortall Knight, it is most superlatively good, this.

Foul. Why this is courtly now, this is sweete, this plaine, this is familiar, but by the Court of France, our peevish dames are so proud, so precise, so coy, so disdainfull, and so subtill, as the Pomonian Serpent, mort dieu the Puncke of Babylon was never so subtill.

Rud. Nay, doe not chafe so, Captaine.

Foul. Your Frenchman would ever chafe, sir Cutt., being thus movde.

Rud. What? and play with his beard so?

Foul. I and brystle, it doth expresse that passion of anger very full, and emphaticall.

Goos: Nay good Knight if your French wood brystle, let him alone, in troth our Ladies are a little too coy, and subtill, Captaine, indeed.

Foul. Subtill, sir Gyles Goosecappe? I assure your soule, they are as subtill with their suters, or loves, as the latine Dialect, where the nominative Case, and the Verbe, the Substantive, and the Adjective, the Verbe, and the [ad]Verbe, stand as far a sunder, as if they were perfect strangers one to another, and you shall hardly find them out; but then learne to Conster, and perse them, and you shall find them prepared and acquainted, and agree together in Case, gender, and number.

Goos. I detest[6], Sir Cutt, I did not thinke he had bin halfe the quintessence of a scholler he is.

Foul. Slydd there's not one of them truely emphaticall.

Goos. Yes, I'le ensure you Captaine, there are many of them truely emphaticall: but all your French Ladies are not fatt? are they sir?

Foul. Fatt sir? why doe ye thinke emphaticall is fatt, sir Gyles?

Rud. Gods my life, brother Knight, didst thou thinke so? hart I know not what it is my selfe, but yet I never thought it was fatt, Ile be sworne to thee.

Foul. Why if any true Courtly dame had had but this new fashioned sute, to entertaine anything indifferently stuffed, why you should have had her more respective by farre.

Rud. Nay, theres some reason for that, Captaine, me thinks a true woman should perpetually doate upon a new fashion.

Foul. Why y'are i'thright sir Cutt. In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas[7]. Tis the mind of man, and woman to affect new fashions; but to our Mynsatives[8] for sooth, if he come like to your Besognio,[9] or your bore, so he be rich, or emphaticall, they care not; would I might never excell a dutch Skipper in Courtship, if I did not put distaste into my cariage of purpose; I knew I should not please them. Lacquay? allume le torche.

Rud. Slydd, heres neyther Torch, nor Lacquay, me thinks.

Foul. O mon dieu.

Rud. O doe not sweare Captaine.

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.