Cap. When I was young,
I could have cut a caper on a pinnacle;
But now I am old and wise.—Keep your figure fair,
And follow but the sample I shall set you,
The duke himself will send for us, and laugh at us;
And that were credit.
Enter Calandrino.
Lid. Who have we here?
Cal. I find
What was brawn in the country, in the court grows tender.
The bots on these jolting jades! I am bruised to jelly.
A coach for my money!
Char. Calandrino! 'tis he.
Cal. Now to my postures.—Let my hand have the honour
To convey a kiss from my lips to the cover of
Your foot, dear signior.
Char. Fie! you stoop too low, sir.
Cal. The hem of your vestment, lady: your glove is for princes;
Nay, I have conn'd my distances.
Lid. 'Tis most courtly.
Cap. Fellow Calandrino!