_Cou_. Not I, I wo' not trust my selfe; and you
Will hardly meet a worse to interrupt you.
Fare you well, Ladie.
-Do you see that Bull?
_Sis_. Yes, Sir.
_Cou_.
That is a happie beast
_Sis_. Why happie, sir?
_Cou_. He writes no verses to his Mistresse, is
Not cosend nor forsworne to gett her favour,
Bestowes no rings nor empties his Exchequer
To appear still in new rich suites, but lives
Free o' the stock of Nature, yet loves none.
Like the great _Turke_ he walkes in his Seraglio,
And doth command which concubine best pleases;
When he has done he falls to graze or sleepe,
And makes as he had never knowne the Dun,
White, Red or Brindled Cowe.
_Sis_. You are unmanly.
_Cou_. Nay, I know you will raile now; I shall like it.
Call me a scurvy fellow, proud and saucie,
An ill bred, crooked Clowne; ile here this rather
Then live upon your pitty.
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Exeunt SCENE 2 Enter
Looke upon this Signd
Thou saist right Thomas
2 What hott feavers
Because we dreame soe
He will taxe all
p 142 9 from
Mod Though I speak
Ele This is a
Mounsieur Barnavelt I am
No sooner had Your
I am put to
Jo I shall be
Wee greeve to se
And I must sue
Bon I believe thee
De Troth I know
I believe however that
For your part Bustamente
Sir Fr What thing
Suc You are married
Bar That he may
Because he is a
Tho Sir your rage
Lady What say you
Lady Doe you not
Suc Truths a truth
Bar Your Grace must
Cou Not I I
It was a fine
You are not long
Motley whose Life of
I would it were
The strict guard s
Nothing Cap You meane
Fra Although I mist
Not any thing thou
Ri I must confesse
Let me see Imprimis
Cap Ope the dore
De Tis tyme I
Bred Your Grace goes
2 Lord Will ye
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