Rud. And yet thou saist thou gallopst after him as fast as thou coodst, and coodst not Catch him; I lay my life some Crabfish has bitten thee by the tongue, thou speakest so backward still.
Goos. But heres all the doubt, sir Cutt: if no body shoold catch him now, when he comes at London, some boy or other wood get uppe on him, and ride him hot into the water to wash him; Ile bee sworne I followed one that rid my Horse into the Thames, till I was up tooth knees hetherto; and if it had not beene for feare of going over shooes, because I am troubled with the rheume, I wood have taught him to wash my Horse when he was hot yfaith.
Enter Fowleweathter.
How now sweet Captaine, dost feele any ease in thy paine yet?
Rud. Ease in his paine quoth you, has good lucke if he feele ease in paine, I thinke, but wood any asse in the World ride downe such a Hill as High-gate is, in such a frost as this, and never light.
Foul. Cods precious, sir Cutt: your Frenchman never lights I tell ye.
Goos. Light, sir Cutt! Slight, and I had my horse againe, theres nere a paltry English frost an them all shood make me light.
Rud. Goe too, you French Zanies you, you will follow the French steps so long, till you be not able to set one sound steppe oth ground all the daies of your life.
Goos. Why, sir Cut: I care not if I be not sound, so I be well, but we were justly plagu'd by this Hill, for following women thus.
Foul. I, and English women too, sir Gyles.