Fue. Why, a sees more, through spectackles which make everye thynge apeare bygger than it is; does more, for a never lights from hys horse but hees readye to pull the sadle after hym; and for comandment he may call twentye tymes to hys servant ere he have hys will once performed.
Rich.—Sfoote, the knave dothe abuse hys hyghnes groslye.
Tur.—Tut, not at all when't cannot be dyserned.
Char. Why, I doe nowe doate on thyne excellence. Thys witts unparaleld.
Did.—True, except a man searche the Idyotts hospytall.
Char. Thou never shalt goe from me.
Fue. O yes, by all meanes. Shall my master say I ranne away like a rascall? No, you shall give me leave to take my leave. That ceremonye performd, I'm yours tyll doomes day.
Char. I cannot live without thee.
Fue. Ile not stay a day at furthest.
Char. I darre denye thee nothynge. Kysse & goe: Thynke how I languyshe for thee.