BALURDO

By my troth, me thinks his nose is joust colour de Roy No in truth, I do not jest, I speak truth. Truth is the touchstone of all things: and if your nose will not abide the truth, your nose will not abide the touch: and if your nose will not abide the touch, your nose is a copper nose, and must be nailed up for a slip. Retort and obtuse, good words, very good words. In truth, if he were retort, and obtuse, no question on, he would be merry: but and please my Genius, I will be most retort and obtuse ere night. I'll tell you, what I'll bear soon at night in my shield, for my device. Oh, do me right: sir Gefferey Balurdo : sir, sir, as long as ye live, sir. Courage, courage sweet Lady, 'tis sir Gefferey Ba lurdo bids you courage. Truly I am as nimble as and E lephant about a Lady. And put in Mellida? well, let me alone, Endear, and intimate: good, I assure you. I will endear and intimate Mellida into the du ̄ geon prese ̄ tly. Lady, with a most retort and obtuse leg I kiss the curled locks of your lose hair. The Duke hath sent you the most musical sir Gefferey, with his not base, but most ennobled Violent, to rock your baby thoughts in the Cradle of sleep. Respective; truly a very pretty word. Indeed Madam, I have the most respective fiddle Did you e ver smell a more sweet sound. My ditty must go thus; very witty, I assure you: I my self in and humo rous passion made it, to the tune of my mistress Nu triches beauty. Indeed, very pretty, very retort, and obtuse; I'll assure you 'tis thus. My mistress eye does oil my joints, And makes my fingers nimble: Oh love, come on, untruss your points, My fiddlestick wants Rozzen. My Ladies dugs are all so smooth, That no flesh must them handle Her eyes do shine, for to say sooth, Like a new snuffed candle. You will give me leave to take my leave of my mistress, and I will do it most famously in rhyme. Farewell, adieu: Says thy love true, As to partly loath. Time bids us part, Mine own sweet heart, God bless us both. Exit Balurdo. You fool. Gods neakes he has wrong, that he has: and 'Sfoot, and I were as he, I would bear no coals, law I, I begin to swell, puff. In very good truth now, I'll never do so more; this one time and HOE, who's above there, hoe? A murren on all Proverbs. They say, hunger breaks though rough stone walls; but I am as gaunt, as lean ribd fa mine: yet I can burst through no stone walls. Oh, now sir Gefferey, show thy valour, break prison, and be hanged. Nor shall the darkest nook of hell contain the discontented sir Balurdos ghost. Well, I am out well, I have put off the prison to put on the rope. Oh poor shotten herring, what a pickle art thou in! Oh hunger, how thou dominer'st in my guts! Oh, for a fat leg of Ewe mutton in stewde broth; or drunken song to feed on. I could belch rarely, for I am all wind. Oh cold, cold, cold, cold, cold. Oh poor knight, o poor sir Gefferey ; sing Like and Unicorn, before thou dost dip thy horn in the water of death; o cold, o sing, o cold, o poor sir Geoffrey, sing, sing. I am acold. Is there a fire? Is there a fat leg of Ewe mutton? And a clean shirt? Then am I for you, most pathetically, & vnvul garly, law. Exit Down to the dungeon with him, I'll dungeon with him; I'll fool you: sir Gefferey will be sir Geoffrey. I'll tickle you. Thou most retort and obtuse rascal. Marry forsooth, I'll carry for my device, my grand father's great stone-horse, flinging up his head, & jerking out his left leg. The word; Wighy Purt. As I am a true knight, wil't not be most retort and obtuse, would? Verily, sir Gefferey had a monstrous strange dream the last night. For me thought I dreamed I was asleep, and me thought the ground yaun'd and belkt up the abominable ghost of a misshapen Simile, with two ugly Pages; the one called master, even as going be before; and the other Mounser, even so following after; whilst Signior Simile stalked most prodigiously in the amid. At which I bewrayed the fearfulness of my nature: and being ready to forsake the fortress of my wit, start up, called for a clean shirt, eat a mess of broth, and with that I awaked. When my beard is on, most noble prince, when my beard is on. In truth, one told me that my wit was bald, & that a Meremaide was half fish, and half fish: and therefore to speak wisely, Like one of your counsel, as indeed it hath pleased you to make me, not only being a fool, of your counsel, but also to make me of your counsel, being a fool; If my wit be bald, and a Mermaid be half fish and half cunger, then I must be forced to conclude the tiring man hath not glewd on my beard half fast, enough. Gods boars, it will not stick to fall off. Oh Lord Duke, I would be sorry of that. Many men can utter that which, no man, but themselves can conceive: but I thank a good wit, I have the gift to speak that which neither any man else, nor my self understands. Wise? Oh no. I have a little natural discretion, or so: but for wise, I am somewhat prudent: but for wise, o Lord I will make him come, most retort and obtuse, to you presently. I think, sir Jeffrey talks Like a counseller. Go to, gods neaks, I think I tickle it. Pathetical, and unvulgar; words of worth, ex cellent words. In sooth, Madam, I have taken a murre, which makes my nose run most pathetically, and un vulgarly. Have you any Tobacco? Instantly, most unvulgarly, at your service. Truly, here's the most pathetical rozzen. Umh. Why, look you Lady, I was wade a knight on lie for my voice; & a counseller, only for my wit. Stand back there, fool; I do hate a fool most most pathetically. Oh these that have no sap of of re tort and obtuse wit in them: faugh. I cannot digest thee, the unvulgar fool. Go fool. Go to, 'tis joust, the man hath wrong: go to. Why then, o wight, alas poor knight. Oh, welladay, sir Gefferey. Let Poets roar, And all deplore: for now I bid you God night. A poor knight, God wot: the nose of thy knight hood is bitten off with cold. Oh poor sir Geoffrey, cold, cold. Nay, and you talk of revenge, my stomach's up, For I am most tyrannically hungry. A beaver? I have a headpiece, a skull, a brain of proof, I warrant ye.