WILL

If my master were a soldier, that word would have the stab. Nay Wit were the best boy if will were gone. I care not for him, curmudgenly Swad. Nay, Wit and will are at strife, when ther's no body but we. Thou knowest that a Falcon wares High, and stoops low, So doth pleasure. Pour temps, for time. Look for my fist Wit, if you rap out such treason. To my masters bird. 'Tis a pleasant Gentleman, this young mast. Wit, Your master hath something too, I pray you what's it. 'Tis a Load in a shell. What is it in sadness? May not policy be bade? Well spoke, and Like a bearward. Wit, dost thou see? thus goes wealth away with all. He will eat them I think, for he gapes very wide. Sirrah, gape not so wide for fear of a fly. I beshrew thee. yes but I am, and in charity too. Will you keep the stakes your self? No: what was that Tarlton? I never knew him. And I too sometime. Coads gaffar were not you a mealman once and dwelled with Lady Conscience ? Nor I'll not dwell with you for all this world's treasure. Come on gaffar, come on, I must be your best chapman, I'll buy it for pleasure, hold, there is a great: Content you good wife, we do not f ltch, but buy. Well dost thou note the couching of thy Lance, Mine had ere this else gored your Spanish skin. Nay wit if thou want him, thou'ilt go near to be mad. Double, how is it? Teach me that and you will make me laugh a little. what gives thy master here? a Buzzard or a Rite. Wit, you show your self a Gentleman by g ssing so right, A Buzzard? thou Buzyard, Wit, hast no more skill Then take a Falcon for a Buzzard. wittily spoken, now wealths mayest. hath God a Daffadowndilly. And my Lord is not pleasure sprung of Voluptuousness, but of such honourable and honest kind conceit, as heaven & humanity well brooks and allows pleasure pleasing not perniti us. Wit, shall I call thee fool? the best pleasure of all lasts but a time, For of all pleasures most pleasing to sighed, Me thinks there is none to the Falcons High slight, Yet diseases end it, the breach of a wing, Nay, the breach of a feather spoils that sweet thing: And ours so too. A Jack and Apes hath wit. Would, would, would. Because your wit was so great in expounding your meaning And how say you to will ? Yea between a maid and a bachelor. When do you show gaffar? To be seen, not bought. To S y truth ther's but had choice, How will you sell the ballad you sang, for I'll not buy the voice. Because it will cost me more money to buy salad oil to keep it from ̄ rusting, than it is Worth: but I pray you honest man, what' this? I cannot read. Yes, but I would not learn. What, a better man? Must the Scutcheons hang still? One within. yea, let them alone. Wit is his name indeed, are you one of his Godfathers, ye hit it so right? I serve my Lord pleasure.