FLUELLO

I, any thing that may beget the child of laughter. Castruchio, Castruchio told the Duke, and Mathaeo here told Castruchio. That makes so many whores nowadays. Oh, it admirable mirth, that: but how wilt be done signior? I, I'll swear for't: sfoot, had it been my case, I should would played mad tricks with my wife and family: first I would would spitted the men, stewd the maids and baked the mistress, and so served them in. A notable-voluble tongde villain. Would signior; haz he fitted your French curse? He calls us. And exlent followed jest. Come, come, you're angry though you smother it: Yare vexed i'faith,-confess. o, but the hateful name of a pennyworth of lawn, And then cut out, ith middle of the piece: Pah, I guess it by my self, would move a Lamb Were he a Linen-draper -twould i'faith. Oh wondrous man, patient above wrong or woe, How blessed were men, if women could be so. A silver and gilded beaker! I have a trick to work up on that beaker, sure 'twill fret him, it cannot choose but vex him. Seig Castrachio, in pity to thee, I have a continued ̄ ceit, will save thy 100. Ducats yet, 'twill doot, & work him to impatience. Well 'tis enough. Enter George. Come: play't off: to me, I am your last man. So, so, good honest George, Here Signior Candido, all this to you. Will you not pledge me then? Blurt on your sentences, -Sfoot you shall pledge me all. Not pledge me? Sblood, I'll carry away the beaker then. Now by this drink I will. So: I would done you right, on my thumble nail, What will you pledge me now? Why then farewell: I'll bear away the beaker by this light. Nay it does please me, & as you say, 'tis a very good one: Farewell Signior Candido. Now Signior Candido, Sblood why do you attach us? You say not true: 'tis gilded. Thou art a blessed man, and with peace dost deal, Such a meek spirit can bless a common weal. Morrow coz. Roger some light I pry thee. Smell? Enter Roger. Here Roger Hold you canker worm. Hypocras! there then, hers a teston for you, you snake No faith Coz; none but Cocks, signior Malavella drunk to thee. And the knight, S. Oliver Lollilo, swore he would bestow a taffeta petticoat on thee, but to break his fast with thee. Lord Ello, the Gentleman-usher came into us too, marry it in our cheese, for he had been to borrow money for his Lord, of a Citizen. Signior Matheo, exceedingly well met too, as I may say. Plague, not for a scald pottle of wine. Count Hypolito, is't not? cry you mercy signior, you walk here all this while, and we not herd you? let me be stow a stool upon ̄ you beseech you, you are a stranger here, we know the fashions ath house. You have abandoned the Court I see my lord since the death of your mistress, well she was a delicate piece-be seech you sweet, come let us serve under the cullors of your acquaintance still: for all that, please you to meet here at my lodging of my cuz, I shall bestow a banquet upon you. Faith sir a poor gentlewoman, of passing good Can riage, one that has some suits in law, and lies here in and At turnies house. Hah, as all your punks are, a captains wife, or so? never saw her before, my Lord. By gad when you know her as we do, yowl swear she is the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, most bewitching honest ape under the pole. A skin, your satin is not more soft, nor lawn whiter. Troth as all your best faces are, a good wench. O he's a most essential gentleman, coz. Troth so would I. Why then put it off till Friday: wut come then cuz? I, and their Yeoman too. I am not what I was! no I'll be sworn thou art not: for thou Wertenberg honest at five, & now th'art a Punk at fif teen: thou Wertenberg yesterday a simple whore, and now th'art a cunning Conny-catching Baggage to day. Whats here? instructions, Admonitions, and Cave ats? come out, you scabbard of vengeance. Pox a your blood: make it a quarrel. Matheo, we shall meet. Adue, Damnation. Candido my Lord, Away, the Duke's vexed. Mathaeo knows all. Be secret on your lives! Castruchio You're but a scurvy Spaniel; honest Lord, Good Lady: Zounds their love is joust, 'tis good, And I'll prevent you, though I swim in blood. Exit. Oh my Lord these cloaks are not for this rain, the tempest is too great: I come sweating to tell you of it, that you may get out of it. Whats the matter! you have matterd it fair: the Duke's at hand. The very Duke. He's but new set out: Castruchio, Pioratto and Sinezi come along with him: you have time enough yet to prevent them if you have but courage. O sir, let that be your lesson. Alas poor lovers, on what Hope's and fears, Men toss themselves for women. when she's God The best has in her that which pleases not. Lets all go see the madmen. How now honest fellow dost thou belong to the house. Would, would, this fellow is a fool, talks idly. Are there no lawyers here amongst you? I perceive all sorts of fish come to your net. Alas poor soul. What do you with that net then? Yes monstrous short hair, and abho minable long nails. Yes ten penny nails. Observe him. 'Tis Bellafronte. You see my Lord theres now no remedy.