Nee. But then I leave him off a-nights.
Clow. Why then he is ruffe low, a ruffian, a bold adventurous errand to do any rough service for his Lady.
Nee. A witty and unhappy conceit, does he mean
As he seems to say unto that reverence? [Toward Cuning.
He does wooe her sure.
Clow. To tell [you] truth, Lady, his conceit was far better than I have blaz'd it yet.
Nee. Do you think so, Sir?
Clow. Nay, I know it forsooth, for it was two days, e'r he compass'd it, to find a fitting present for your Ladyship, he was sending once a very fine Puppy to you.
Nee. And that he would have brought himself.
Clow. So he would indeed, but then he alter'd his device, and sent this Ruffe; requesting withall, that whensoever it is foul, you (with your own hands) would bestow the starching of it.
Nee. Else she wooes him, now his eyes shoots this way;
And what was the reason for that, Sir? [Toward Cun.
Clow. There lies his main conceit, Lady, for says he, In so doing she cannot chuse but in the starching, to clap it often between her hands, and so she gives a great liking and applause to my Present, whereas, if I should send a Puppy, she ever calls it to her with hist, hiss, hiss, which is a fearful disgrace, he drew the device from a Play, at the Bull tother day.