Wild. Their wit and beauty.
Theo. Now for our champion, St Jago, for Spain.
Bel. Faith, I can speak no such miracles of either; for their beauty, 'tis much as the Moors left it; not altogether so deep a black as the true Ethiopian; a kind of beauty that is too civil to the lookers-on to do them any mischief.
Jac. This was your frowardness, that provoked him, sister.
Theo. But they shall not carry it off so.
Bel. As for their wit, you may judge it by their breeding, which is commonly in a nunnery; where the want of mankind, while they are there, makes them value the blessing ever after.
Theo. Pr'ythee, dear Jacintha, tell me, what kind of creatures were those we saw yesterday at the audience? Those, I mean, that looked so like Frenchmen in their habits, but only became their apishness so much worse.
Jac. Englishmen, I think, they called them.
Theo. Cry you mercy; they were of your wild English, indeed; that is, a kind of northern beast, that is taught its feats of activity in Monsieurland; and, for doing them too lubberly, is laughed at all the world over.
Bel. Wildblood, I perceive the women understand little of discourse; their gallants do not use them to it: They get upon their jennets, and prance before their ladies' windows; there the palfrey curvets and bounds, and, in short, entertains them for his master.