Goos. O brave sir Cut: come lets pricke up the Ladies.
Fur. And will not the Knights two noble kinsemen be there?
Ia. Both will be there, my Lord.
Fur. Why theres the whole knot of us then, and there shall we knocke up the whole triplicitie of your nuptials.
Goos. Ile make my Lord my Cosin speake for me.
Foul. And your Lordship will be for me I hope.
Fur. With tooth and naile Captaine, a my Lord[ship].
Rud. Hang am Tytts! ile pommell my selfe into am.
Ia. Your Lo: your Cosin, sir Gyles, has promist the Ladies they shall see you sowe.
Goos. Gods me, wood I might never be mortall, if I doe not carry my worke with me.