_Sir Vaug._ Peter Salamanders draw out the pictures of all the ioynt stooles, & Ladies sit downe vpon their wodden faces.
|1400| _Flash._ I warrant Sir, Ile giue euerie one of them a good stoole.
_Sir Vau._ Master Horace, Master Horace, when I pray to God, and desire in hipocritnes that bald Sir Adams were heer, then, then, then begin to make your railes at the pouertie and beggerly want of haire.
_Sir Vau._ M. Bubo sit there, you and I wil thinke vpon our ends at the Tables: M. Horace, put your learned bodie into the midst of these Ladies; so tis no matter to speake graces at nuncions, because we are all past grace since dinner.
|1410| _Asini._ Mas I thanke my destinie I am not past grace, for by this hand full of Carrawaies, I could neuer abide to say grace.
_Dica._ Mistris Miniuer, is not that innocent Gentleman a kinde of foole?
|1415| _Dicach._ Nay for no harme, I aske because I thought you two had been of acquaintaine.
_Min._ I thinke he’s within an Inch of a foole.
_Dicach._ Madam Philocalia, you sit next that spare Gentleman, wod you heard what Mistris Miniuer saies of you.
|1420| _Philo._ Why what saies she Madam Dicache.
_Dica._ Nay nothing, but wishes you were married to that small timber’d gallant.
_Philo._ Your wish and mine are twinnes, I wish so too, for Then I should be sure to lead a merrie life.
|1425| _Asini._ Yes faith Ladie, Ide make you laugh, my bolts now and then should be soone shot; by these comfits, weed let all slide.
_Petu._ He takes the sweetest oathes that euer I heard a gallant of his pitch sweare; by these Comfits, & these Carrawaies, I warrant it does him good to sweare.
|1430| _Asin._ Yes faith tis meate and drinke to me. I am glad Ladie Petula (by this Apple) that they please you.
_Sir Vau._ Peter Salamanders wine, I beseech you Master Asinius Bubo, not to sweare so deeplie, for there comes no fruite of your oathes; heere Ladies, I put you all into one corners together, |1435| you shall all drinke of one cup.
_Flash._ Ide fling you out too and I might ha my will, a pox of all fooles.
_Sir Vau._ Mistris Miniuers, pray bee lustie, wod Sir Adams |1440| Prickshaft stucke by you.
_Hor._ Who, the balde Knight Sir Vaughan?
_Sir Vau._ The same M. Horace, he that has but a remnant or parcell of haire, his crowne is clipt and par’d away; me thinkes tis an excellent quallitie to bee balde; for and there stucke a |1445| nose and two nyes in his pate, he might weare two faces vnder one hood.