Come to my Chamber, Sir, Ile practise there.
Mis. Doe, and Ile teach you the very mysterie of Fencing, that in a fortnight, you shall be able to challenge any Scholer vnder the degree of a Prouost, and in a quarter of a yeere, beat all the Fencers in Germany. Our English Masters of this Noble Science would ha’ gi’n fortie pound to haue knowne that tricke.
Scan. Say you so, Sir?
By this hand, I shall thinke my money well bestowed then: but to tell you the truth, Sir, the reason I would learne, is, because I am to bee married shortly: and they say, Then or neuer, is the time for a man to get the mastery.
Mis. How, marry, Scholer? thou art not mad, I hope. Doe you know what you doe?
Scan. I know what I shall doe, Master, that’s as good.
Mis. Doe you know what she is you are to marrie?
Scan. A woman, I am sure a that.
Mis. No, she’s a Deuill, Harpie, Cockatrice.
Scan. And you were not my Master——