Asi. By my troth heer’s an excellent comfortable booke, it’s most sweet reading in it.
Dem. Why, what does it smell of Bubo?
Asi. Mas it smels of Rose-leaues a little too.
Hor. Then it must needs be a sweet booke, he would faine perfume his ignorance.
Asi. I warrant he had wit in him that pen’d it.
Cris. Tis good yet a foole will confesse truth.
Asi. The whoorson made me meete with a hard stile in two or three places as I went ouer him.
Dem. I beleeue thee, for they had need to be very lowe & easie Stiles of wit that thy braines goe ouer.
Enter Blunt and Tucca.