Cor. Hist; a ducke, a ducke[194]; there she is, Sir.
Bal. A Souldiers good wish blesse you, Lady.
Onae. Good wishes are most welcome, Sir, to me; So many bad ones blast me.
Bal. Doe you not know me?
Onae. I scarce know my selfe.
Bal. I ha beene at Tennis, Madam, with the king. I gave him 15 and all his faults, which is much, and now I come to tosse a ball with you.
Onae. I am bandyed too much up and downe already.
Cor. Yes, she has beene strucke under line, master Souldier.
Bal. I conceit you: dare you trust your selfe along with me?
Onae. I have been laden with such weights of wrong That heavier cannot presse me: hence, Cornego.