Un. He that was Mr. Underwit is made a Captaine; you may, if you please, take notice of his title.
De. I beg your mercy, noble Captaine, and congratulate your addition of honour. It was Ignorance which, I professe, made me salute you with a wrong preface. Now, Capt., I shall bee proud to march under the ensigne of your favour.
Un. Friend Device, how does thy body? I am thy vassall; servant is for porters, watermen & lacquies, & is no witt neither. You preserve your tropes and your elegancies? What fancies doe adorne to-day? If I were a Constable I might apprehend you for suspition you had robd a pedlar. Does this thatchd cottage head hold still in fashion? What paid you for this dead mans hair? Where's your night rail[228]? The last time I saw you was in Fleetstreet, when at Complement and bare to an other gentleman. I tooke him for a Barber and I thought you by the wide lynnen about your neck [to] have been under correction in the suds[229], sir.
De. Wee are govern'd by the Mode, as waters by the Moone; but there are more changes in th'one than t'other. But does your Comand extend to the Sea or the land service?
Un. I never see the Sea in my life, sir, nor intend it.
De. You are not the first Captaine that has seene no service: 'tis time lost to travell for't when a man may bee a Comander at home. I never traveld myselfe.
Un. No, Sir?
De. And yet I understand garbes, from the elevation of your pole to the most humble galosh.
Un. Can your hanches play well in these close cut breeches? they want but a pummell to distinguish 'em from Trouses[230].
De. O sir, there is a perfect geometry in these breeches; you doe not observe the morality of your fancie, nor the gentile play and poize of your Lemon, Orange or Melon: this is gentry. Why, I understand all the curiosities of the Mode to a Mathematicall point, and yet I never travaild in all my life for't.