Foul. Goos. Rud. O good Sir.
Goos. Our worships shall attend their Ladiships thether.
Ia. No Sir Gyles by no meanes, they will goe privately thether, but if you will meet them there.
Rud. Meet them? weele die fort, but weele meet them.
Foul. Let's goe thether to night, Knights, and you be true Gallants.
Rud. Content.
Ia. How greedely they take it in, Sirra?
Goos. No it is too farre to goe to night, weele be up betimes ith morning, and not goe to bedd at all.
Foul. Why its but ten miles, and a fine cleere night, sir Gyles.
Goos. But ten miles? what do ye talke, Captaine?