Bow. O good morrow, my Lord, good morrow.
Pem. I prythee, Captayne, sawst thou Ferdinand, Sonne to Navar, as thou didst walke the round.
Bow. Even now, my Lord, he past along this way.
Pem. Himselfe alone? or had he company?
Bow. Nay, questionlesse, he was alone, my Lord.
Pem. Couldst thou discerne his face? how did he looke?
Bow. Faith, scurvily, my Lord, like a greene cheese or the inside of a rotten Pumpian.[132]
Pem. There is Crownes for thee to drinke. [Exit Pem.
Bow. I thanke your Lordship. To see the difference betweene these French Curres and our English Cavaliers! There's as much bounty in them as there's Marchpane in a dish of Almond butter. I might have stood heere till my teeth chatter in my head e're the tother Launcepresado[133] would have sayd, Here, Captayn Bowyer, there's a Cardicue[134] to wash downe melancholy. But, had I knowne as much, I would have basted him till his bones had rattled in his skin.
Enter Core and other Souldiers bringing in the Clowne.