Sir Vaugh. My braines has a little fine quawme come vnder it, and therefore Sir Adam, and Sir Quintilian, and mistris Miniuer caps God bo’y.
All. Good Sir Vaughan.
Sir Vaugh. Master Horace, your inuentions doe her no good in the Vniuersalities; yet heere is two shillings for your wittes; nay by Sesu you shall take it if’t were more: yonder bald Adams, is put my nose from his ioynt; but Adam I will be euen to you: this is my cogitations, I will indite the Ladies & Miniuer caps to a dinner of Plumbes, and I shall desire you M. Horace, to speake or raile; you can raile I hope in God a mighty.
Hor. You meane to speake bitterlie.
Sir Vaughan. Right, to spitte bitterly vpon baldnes, or the thinnes of haire; you sall eate downe Plumbes to sweeten your mouth, and heere is a good Ansell to defend you: Peter Salamander follow me.
Flash. With hue and crie and you will Sir.
Sir Vau. Come M. Horace, I will goe pull out the Ladies.
Ho. And Ile set out my wits, Baldnes the Theame?
My words shall flow hye in a siluer stream.
Exeunt.