_Tuc._ Scorne it, dost scorne to be arrested at one of his olde Suites?
|630| _Hor._ No Captaine, Ile weare any thing.
_Tuc._ I know thou wilt, I know th’art an honest low minded Pigmey, for I ha seene thy shoulders lapt in a Plaiers old cast Cloake, like a Slie knaue as thou art: and when thou ranst mad for the death of Horatio: thou borrowedst a gowne of Roscius |635| the Stager, (that honest Nicodemus) and sentst it home lowsie, didst not? _Responde_, didst not?
_Blun._ So, so, no more of this, within this houre--
_Hor._ If I can sound retreate to my wits, with whome this leader is in skirmish, Ile end within this houre.
|640| _Tuc._ What wut end? wut hang thy selfe now? has he not writ Finis yet Iacke? what will he bee fifteene weekes about this Cockatrices egge too? has hee not cackeld yet? not laide yet?
_Blunt._ Not yet, hee sweares hee will within this houre.
_Tuc._ His wittes are somewhat hard bound: the Puncke his |645| Muse has sore labour ere the whoore bee deliuered: the poore saffron-cheeke Sun-burnt Gipsie wantes Phisicke; giue the hungrie-face pudding-pye-eater ten Pilles: ten shillings my faire Angelica, they’l make his Muse as yare as a tumbler.
_Blu._ He shall not want for money if heele write.
|650| _Tuc._ Goe by Ieronimo, goe by; and heere, drop the ten shillings into this Bason; doe, drop, when Iacke? hee shall call me his Mæcenas: besides, Ile dam vp’s Ouen-mouth for rayling at’s: So, ist right Iacke? ist sterling? fall off now to the vanward of yonder foure Stinkers, and aske alowde if wee shall goe? the |655| Knight shall defray Iacke, the Knight when it comes to _Summa totalis_, the Knyght, the Knight.--
_Blu._ Well Gentlemen, we’ll leaue you, shall we goe Captaine? good Horrace make some hast.
|660| _Asin._ I neuer sawe mine Ingle so dasht in my life before.
_Asi._ Mas you say true, hee was dasht worse once going (in a rainy day) with a speech to’th Tilt-yard, by Gods lyd has call’d him names, a dog would not put vp, that had any discreation.
|665| _Tuc._ Holde, holde vp thy hand, I ha seene the day thou didst not scorne to holde vp thy golles: ther’s a Souldiers Spur-royall, twelue pence: Stay, because I know thou canst not write without quick-siluer; vp agen, this goll agen, I giue thee double presse-money: Stay, because I know thou hast a noble head, ile deuide |670| my Crowne, ô royall Porrex, ther’s a teston more; goe, thou and thy Muse munch, doe, munch; come my deare Mandrake, if Skeldring fall not to decay, thou shalt florish: farewell my sweet _Amadis de Gaule_, farewell.