Glo. Why, Sir, methinks they are very familiar Scabs all.
Hau. Salerimente, they all salute me as they were my old Acquaintance. Your servant, Myn heer Haunce, crys one; your servant, Monsieur Haunce, crys another.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Your servant, Sir, you come indeed like a Bridegroom all beset with Dance and Fiddle.
Hau. Bridegroom! ha, ha, ha, dost hear, Gload? ’tis true faith. But how the Devil came he to know it, man, hah?
Serv. My Master, Sir, was just asking for you, he longs to speak with you.
Hau. Ha, ha, with me, Sir? why, ha, ha, who the pox am I?
Serv. You, Sir, why, who should you be?
Hau. Who should I be? why, who should I be?
Serv. Myn heer Haunce van Ezel, Sir.