Enter Ancient Young.
Wid. What cope's-mate's[40] this, trow? who let him in?
Jar. By this light, a fellow of an excellent breeding.
He came unbidden, and brought his stool with him.
John. Look, mistress, how they stare one at another.
Jar. Yes, and swell like a couple of gibbed cats[41] met both by chance i' th' dark in an old garret.
Wid. Look, look; now there's no fear of the wild beasts: they have forgot their spleens, and look prettily; they fall to their pasture. I thought they had been angry, and they are hungry.
Jar. Are they none of Duke Humphrey's[42] furies? Do you think that they devised this plot in Paul's to get a dinner?
Wid. Time may produce as strange a truth. Let's note them.
Enter Randall.
Ran. Hur loved hur once: hur loved hur no more,
Saint Tavie, so well as hur loved hur then.