A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. III | Page 6

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. 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_?
Ia. O wise Knight!
Goos. I never innd in the Towne but once, and then they lodged me in a Chamber so full of these Ridiculous Fleas, that I was fain to lie standing all night, and yet I made my man rise, and put out the Candle too, because they should not see to bite me.
Foul. A pretty project.
Bul. Intruth Captaine, if I might advise you, you should tarry, and take the morning afore you.
Foul. How? _O mon Dieu_! how the villaine _poultroune_, dishonours his travaile! You _Buffonly Mouchroun_, are you so mere rude, and English to advise your Captaine?
Rud. Nay, I prethee _Fouleweather_, be not tempesteous with thy poore Lacquay.
Foul. Tempesteous, Sir _Cutt_? will your _Frenchman_, thinke you, suffer his Lacquay to advise him?
Goos. O God you must take heed Lacquy how you advise your Captaine; your French lacquay would not have done it.
Foul. He would have bin poxt first. _Allume le torche_, sweet Pages commend us to your Ladies, say we kisse their white hands, and will not faile to meete them; Knights, which of you leades?
Goos. Not wee, sir; you are a Captaine, and a leader.
Rud. Besides, thou art commended for the better man, for thou art very Commendations it selfe, and Captaine Commendations.
Foul. Why? what tho I be Captain Commendations?
Rud. Why and Captaine Commendations, is harty commendations, for Captaines are harty I