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

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. 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