Fur. Let this unsutable foole goe, sir Gyles; we will make shift without him.
Goos. That we wil, a my word, my Lord, and have him too for all this.
Wil. Doe not you say so, sir Gyles, for to tell you true that foole is dead.
Goos. Dead? slight that can not be, man; I know he wood ha writ to me ant had byn so.
Fur. Quick or dead, let him goe, sir Giles.
Ia. I, my Lord, for we have better newes for you to harken after.
Fur. What are they, my good Novations?
Ia. My Lord Momford intreates your Lordship, and these knights and captaine to accompany the Countesse Eugenia, and the other two Ladies, at his house at supper to night.
Wil. All desiring your Lo: to pardon them, for not eating your meat to night.
Fur. Withall my hart wagges, and thers amends; my harts, now set your courtshippe a' the last, a the tainters, and pricke up your selves for the Ladies.